The Story of a Rafiq
by Callek Darren
Summary: Yaoi. Malik was given a book to write in years ago. Now that his life is seemingly crashing down, he decides to write in it and tell his story... About his love for a certain assassin and how it grew.
1. Chapter 1

The Story of a Rafiq

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><p>Description: Yaoi. Malik was given a book to write in years ago. Now that his life is seemingly crashing down, he decides to write in it and tell his story.. About his love for a certain assassin and how it grew.<p>

Warnings: Rated M for a reason, there will be sexual language, acts, cursing, and possible other things. As it stated in the descript, this is a Slash/Yaoi/Gay situation story, don't like it? Probably should turn around :P

Disclaimer: I OWN THESE CHARACTERS. I AM UBISOFT AND I WILL BASK IN IT'S GREATNESS- Not really. :I Only time I'll be saying it, as always, I do not own the characters I use, just using them.

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><p>Note: The beginning starts out right after the second memory in Revelations. I will be working with the plot that the game left out there, but also not at the same time, for some...er obvious reasons of a certain someones death * cough* So if you see something that isn't in the game, or is diverted from what really happened, relax~ I know. XD<p>

Note 2: Don't expect quick updates like my previous stories. I wont take a month each chapter, probably one a week, but I need to still focus on school xD

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

Malik paced the bureau, ruffling his hair in his hand as he did so. He had just left Al Mualim with Altair. Why did he do that? He could have easily sent a messenger to Jerusalem for him, but instead he ran. His heart scolded his brain as he pressed his hand against the wall, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against the coolness of it. He knew early on that he was in love with the other man. He knew it back when they were novices. Back when the Rafiq and the Assassin first met each other after being paired as sparring partners. He wondered for a moment at how exactly he came into this life.

Sighing, and sitting up, he walked over to a drawer and opened it, pulling out a book. It was blank, nothing written inside it, but it was worn, obviously cherished. "Might as well write this all down before it's truly lost," he murmured to himself, pulling out a quill and some ink, staring down at the blank pages of the poorly bound book. His hand hovered over the page for a moment, before finally lowering and writing...

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><p>Street rats. That's what Malik and Kadar were considered to be. They wandered around the town of Acre with nothing but the knowledge of their first and last names and the clothes on their back. They'd been on the street for two years now, Kadar barely holding on to the remembrance the face of their mother who was murdered in a back alley for Malik to watch. They never did have a father, something they wondered about, but never really bothered to ask their mother at the time, when she was still alive. Now, the hope of a father, was just a dream for the two boys to hold onto.<p>

They were given their father's name "Al-Sayf" something they were not suppose to tell others unless they trusted them, for whatever reason that their mother would not say. Malik only assumed, even though he was roughly only four years of age at the time, that there was something deeper about his father that he didn't even phantom. He wasn't even sure he really wanted to, anyway. If their mother had gone so far out of her way to make sure they knew nothing of their father, why would he want to know why? Perhaps he was dead, or a murderer. An outsider, or a thief. Whatever the reason, he blocked it out of his mind never wondering more.

The boys became thieves, not that they really had any other choice. Starve or steal. It was unfortunate, and depressed Malik, but he kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to damper any happiness or joy that his brother had left in him. Every morning, Malik would awake from their alleyway and venture out. On a rare occasion, he would find a bit of currency on the ground, not that he knew how to count it, and traded it in for a meal for the day that him and his brother could split. On other days, he would slink to the shadows, steal two pieces of fruit, then take to the rooftops, sprinting to their alleyway before anyone had even noticed the dents of the missing fruit from the bunch of others. Every morning he would tell his brother he found a bit of money for the fruit, but after two years, he was sure that Kadar knew that he had just stolen it.

It was fortunate, or unfortunate depending on the perception of the onlooker, that one day Malik had gotten the idea of attempting to pick pocket a man. He was obviously not from around there, he wore white robes, a hood, unlike the rags the people around him dressed in. He had weapons, but that didn't phase the boy as he maneuvered through the crowd, only pausing for a moment looking for an opening.

The man was speaking to a tailor, a crowd of people all around him. It was a perfect opening if there ever was one. Squeezing through the people, he made his way to the man, his hand outright, stretched and ready to take a hold of whatever money pouch he could see. Spotting his target, he grinned, nearly there, his hand closing around it.

That was when it happened: The man turned, as if he knew exactly what was going on, and grabbed the boy's arm, pulling him next to him. Malik looked anywhere but to the man's face till he felt him let go of his arm. His head shot up, his eyes scanning the face of the stranger. He wasn't mad, and what was even more bizarre, he was smiling! The man turned back to the tailor, handed him a few coins, and started off to the side, muttering, "Come with me boy, I want to talk to you," under his breath.

Should he run? Probably. Did he? No. He followed the man, curious as to who he was, and why he had such a reaction to almost being pick pocketed. He turned down a alleyway, where he paused, looking down at Malik, who held his hands in front of him, wondering if he should say something first. "I'm sorry," he finally uttered, holding back the sudden urge to cry. He was only seven. He hated living like this, and he hated that he had grown so much to being a thief that he even gave into the want to do such an act.

"What's your name?"

"Malik..."

"Well, Malik. Next time you want to go about picking a pocket, I don't recommend going about the way you did just now. You probably didn't realize it, but you acted as a vulture does, walking in a circle, telling your target you were there and after whatever it is he had to offer." Malik cringed. He hadn't realized he acted as such, and simply looked down. "Where do you live?" No answer. "Is there anyone with you?"

"My younger brother... Kadar," he whispered, figuring telling him his name was not going to hurt anyone.

"Do you like the life you have been given?"

"Not... not really, sir."

There was a short silence, before the man sighed, and knelt down to look Malik in the eyes, "Would you like a home Malik? For you and your brother? I have been watching you, you are very good at climbing. My brothers and I could teach you and your brother to do great things. Of course, you'd have to leave your thievery behind you," he stated.

Malik shook his head, "I hate being a thief. I only do it to keep my brother alive. But sir, what good could I do?" he asked, in a harsh whisper as he tried not to talk loudly.

"I can show you, Malik. You and your brother. I swear to you, I will do all that I can to teach you."

Malik didn't know what he was getting himself into. He foolishly nodded his head, earning a smile from the man, who stood, holding his hand out to him, which he gratefully took. A companion that wasn't just there because he was his brother, it was a nice feeling. He led him to his brother, who was overeager to go with the man, more so than Malik was, taking his free hand, heading to the gates of Acre where they met another robed man, who was silent and didn't speak a word.

The man who caught Malik had introduced himself as Tamir Asuf, and introduced the silent man as his companion named Majid, but didn't give his last name. Kadar rode with Majid on his horse, Malik on Tamir's. The older brother offered to ride with the stranger man, but the younger brother simply stated he didn't mind, that he was just happy to finally be going somewhere else.

The ride was about three days, Tamir had warned the boys at the start that it wasn't going to be a quick "get on the horse and we are there" but they both didn't mind. After living in the city and never leaving it, it was nice to see the scenery and what was out of it. After two days of riding, at nightfall, Malik's curiosity got the best of him. As Tamir slept, he took a hold on his sword, and held it in front of him, pointing it at a tree. The feeling of feeling so powerful to be holding a blade as such was indescribable. He bit his lip, turning his head to look at the sleeping man that so quickly took him in. Who were these men? He couldn't help himself but wonder. They carried weapons, hidden blades, they didn't seem cruel like the guards of Acre, but guarded and truly concerned for the people.

He heard a snap of a twig, spinning around to point the sword at the source of the sound, the blade clanging against Majid's blade, causing the small boy to stare up at him, eyes wide. "Be careful with that, Malik. You could poke an eye out," he said, speaking for the first time since they met. Malik clumsily lowered the blade, putting it on the ground as the other sheathed his own. "What happened to your parents?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he crossed his arms.

"My father left when I was one, and my brother was in my mothers womb... My mother... she was murdered two years ago..." Malik lowered his head, not to look the other man in the eye. He didn't want to show him any sort of weakness. The pain of seeing his mother killed still haunted him, and he didn't dare show it, least of all to a man he still wasn't sure he could trust.

"I apologize for asking," the man stated, turning his back to the boy, walking back over to his resting spot, and sat down, pulling out a knife and carving into a small piece of wood.

Malik watched him for a moment, standing perfectly still as he watched him. Finally, after a few minutes of mentally battling himself, he walked over to the man, and sat down next to him. "What are you and Tamir?" he asked, softly.

"Men, like you will be later on in life, of course."

"I mean, what is it that you are going to teach us? You aren't normal people, that much is certain..."

The man hesitated for a moment, before sighing and letting his hands drop slightly, "We are Assassins." Malik froze. Weren't those worse than the guards in Acre? "We are nothing like what you've heard on the streets I assure you. We have creeds we must follow. One being, never kill an innocent. We do not randomly kill, Malik. We kill those we need to, to help our cause... to help the world..."

Hearing those words comforted him. To kill only bad men, helping the world out by ridding of them. It was a just cause. Something he could see himself training to do as well, even though he knew his skills were only in running and climbing.

"Do you know of your last name?"

Malik blinked, and nodded slightly, "Al-Sayf..."

The man grinned and nodded his head, handing him the now carved piece of wood. "That is the symbol of our creed, of our brotherhood. I think you have a lot of promise, Malik Al-Sayf. You will be a great assassin."

The boy reached out, taking the carving from the man and studying it. He could have sworn he had seen the marking somewhere before. He looked up to Majid, and earned a caring smile. He smiled back and held the symbol in his hand. "We should probably go to sleep," he said softly, the assassin chuckling as he nodded his head, slumping back against a rock. Malik curled up next to the other man, leaning his head against his arm, and closing his eyes, trying to sleep, briefly wondering why he suddenly felt the need to trust the mysterious man.

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><p>The morning came all to fast. Majid lightly shaking Malik awake, and helping him up on his horse after he insisted riding with him. Kadar was fine with riding with Tamir, who told stories of different wars in other countries, and other stories of love and romance that left Kadar giggling stating that it was gross. The ride seemed like it was never going to end, not that the two boys were complaining about it. They were happy, enjoying themselves as they listened to every word that was spoken as if it was a drug, and they were addicted to it, yearning for every bit they could get.<p>

They rode up a trail, over a slight hill only to pause as they reached the top. "Masyaf," Malik breathed, staring out at the tower that lay behind the town. He looked back at Majid, who nodded his head, Kadar making a soft "ooooh" sound as Tamir laughed, lightly kicking back on his horse making the horse break out into a quick trot, Majid's horse following close behind. The elder of the brothers couldn't help himself but to feel a bit giddy as they rode to the gates. As they dismounted their horses and were led through the town, more and more white hooded men could be seen the closer they reached the tower.

"Tamir, Majid, safety and peace, welcome back."

As they reached the gate, a man who seemed all to serious to be greeting Malik and Kadar's new companions stepped forward, nodding his head, and scanning his eagle-like eyes over the two boys.

"Umar, safety and peace, it is good to see you again brother," Tamir stated with a grin.

"Safety and peace, may I have a word?" Umar nodded to Majid, stepping off to the side with the other in toe, only stopping to turn and huddle together with them as they whispered to each other.

"He's scary..." Malik looked back at Kadar as Tamir lightly laughed.

"He is, isn't he? But don't misjudge him. He is as graceful and helpful as the eagle, but he knows what he is doing and is as cunning as any wolf out there," Tamir noted, Malik looking back at the man being discussed, their eyes meeting, sending a shiver down his spine.

"We're to take them to Al Mualim," Malik looked up to Majid who was smiling down at him, kindly. Malik didn't know what kind of connection he was forming with Majid, but all he knew was he was able to trust him. Whoever this Al Mualim was, he knew that it was someone that Majid trusted, as did Tamir. He took the other man's hand, and followed them taking his brother's hand in his free one and stepped forward, heading to wherever this man was inside.

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><p>Ha cha cha~ How was that? Like so far? Leave a review please and let me know~ It always makes me smile to get one x3<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 2

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><p>At first glance, the room they entered was a library. Malik had to conceal his giddiness as he refrained from rushing over and grabbing the first book he could touch and begging one of the two Assassin's to teach him to read. They walked up some stairs, then the older of the two brothers stopped and blinked. Through a doorway at the top of this set of stairs was a garden, something Malik wasn't expecting. But the thing that really caught his eye was the man from before, Umar. How did he get ahead of them? As he watched him for a moment, knowing fully well he was being left behind by the other three, he noticed he was talking with someone.<p>

He looked up the second set of stairs Tamir, Majid, and Kadar ascended and then back to the doorway. Curiosity took over him, causing him to exit the room to get a closer look. He was talking to a boy, who seemed to be about the same age as him, or maybe a bit older. He had brown hair, and from what he could see from so far away amber eyes that stared down at the ground as the man seemingly was talking down to him.

"Ah," Malik turned to look up at Majid who placed his hand on his shoulder leading him back in. "He's very hard on his son," he explained, Malik nodding since he didn't know what else to say or do. He followed the Assassin up the stairs and headed towards an area off to the side that an older man stood behind.

Kadar was already standing in front of him, looking down, almost awkwardly as he stared at his feet. It was a stance he only took when he was nervous. Malik stepped to his side, grinning at his brother's lit up face as he saw him next to him. "So, this is the other boy?"

"Malik, sir," Tamir stated, earning a nod from the head from the older man, who stepped forward and reached out cupping both of the brother's chins and tilting them upward to look up at him. Kadar nearly shivered, grabbing Malik's hand as he stared up into the blind eye of the man.

"He looks just like Faheem..." Malik's eyes widened slightly as he stared upward in confusion. "I see they do not know of him?" he turned his head to look to the left of the boys where Majid stood. The Assassin shook his head and looked away, the older man smiling slightly as he looked back down at the boys. "I see you both have a lot to learn, don't you?" The man took a step back, dropping his hands from the brothers chins and wrapping his arms behind himself, holding his hands together. "Find them a room together, they shall start their training in a week with the other new novices. Until they start might I recommend informing them of the ancestry they descend from?"

Majid nodded his head and reached out taking Malik's shoulder, Tamir taking Kadar's. They led the two boys away from Al Mualim and down the stairs. "What did he mean?" Malik finally asked as they left the building, heading to a tower.

"I'll explain things later boys, let's just get you settled in your rooms and dressed in new clothes, okay?" Majid asked, Malik nodding his head softly as he followed the two men, his brother behind him, still holding his hand as he looked around curiously.

They climbed a couple flights of stairs, occasionally being passed by another person or child, who either greeted the two assassins as higher-ups or old friends depending on the age. As they reached the fourth floor the entered a hall and were led to the very last door from the row on the left. Tamir opened the door and walked inside, heading to the window and opening it up. Inside were two rolled up cushions, a couple of folded up blankets and some candles set off to the side with some charcoal.

"I'll get their clothes," Majid stated, turning and heading back down the hall.

Tamir turned and looked to the two boys, who chose which side of the room was theirs quickly and easily, Kadar drifting to the left and Malik to the right. He stood to the side observing them carefully, watching as they unrolled the cushions and took care in everything they touched. It was obvious the two of them had seen hardships, making the Assassin almost feel sorry for them. So young, yet they already knew the pain of loss, the desperation of thievery and starvation, and (in Malik's case) the trauma of death.

Majid returned shortly with a armful of clothes and a covered basket. He set the basket off to the side of the door and divided the sets of clothes, one stack being smaller than the other. "Training and normal classes, everyday, and sleeping," he stated, to them showing which were which. Malik took a hold of the clothes he passed him and stared down at them. The training clothes were just like the every day clothes except a thicker material. He recalled seeing some of the men on the way up to the tower wearing them. The sleeping clothes were just simple pants and t-shirts that were an off beige color.

"Thank you," Malik thanked, earning a smile from the two older men after Kadar hastily thanked them afterward.

"I brought up some food, normally you'd be eating with the other Novices, but since we arrived a bit late we were excused," Majid stated, walking back to the door and taking the basket. He removed the cover and revealed a small pot of what seemed like a type of porridge and some bowls. He pulled the pot out and took a spoon distributing the amounts of food and handing out them with spoons.

The two boys ate what they were given, not speaking as they sat on their respective cushions. Tamir poked at his food with his spoon and looked up to Majid every so often, opening then closing his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out. After the long nearly unbearable silence, Kadar was the first to speak.

"Is Faheem my father?"

Majid blinked and slowly lowered the spoon to set it back into his bowl, Tamir nodding his head quietly.

"So, the reason you picked me out of the crowd wasn't because I was a good climber, but because I looked like this Faheem?" Malik snapped, his brows furrowing at the sudden realization.

"You are his son," Majid whispered, now setting the bowl down on the ground. "I remember when you were born Malik. He sent me a letter. He was so excited. There's no mistake, you are his son. You have his last name, you look like him, and are the exact age of the son he mentioned in his letter."

"So he was a friend of yours?" Kadar questioned, before Malik could come up with something smart to snap back in return.

"He was my brother." Malik and Kadar both went silent. "I only wish you both could have known him. He was a brave man, skilled with the blade, and very caring."

"What happened to him? My mother would never say," Malik asked.

"We were sent overseas to investigate Templar control in another land. On the way back a boy had fallen overboard, and Faheem had jumped over to save him. He managed to push the boy back on board, but the current took him with it..."

The story almost seemed too good to be true. Malik looked over to his brother, who stared up at the ceiling with admiring eyes. He was easily impressed, so the elder of the two brothers knew that there was no room for speculation with him. The older brother simply held his tongue and looked off to the side, keeping his opinions to himself.

"Should we give you a tour, or just come get you in the morning to take you to breakfast and classes?" Tamir asked, collecting the bowls from the boys.

"Tour!" Kadar jumped up and smiled wide.

Malik simply shook his head, "I'll just stay here."

Kadar's smile wiped away almost instantly as he looked to his brother, who was staring down at his hands to avoid meeting the gaze of anyone. Tamir was the first to stand, holding out his hand to the younger brother, who took it and stood, following him out. Malik could have sworn he heard him asking the assassin what was wrong with him, but ignored the answer as he looked up to see Majid standing and looking down at him.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," the elder man stated, staying where he stood.

"I wish to be left alone," Malik whispered, hugging his knees, dropping his gaze to look to the ground. He listened to the sound of the man's footsteps as he left the room and closed the door. He didn't know what he should do, or how he should be feeling. He had been wishing for a way out of the streets, and hoping that something would come along and give him an opportunity to make life better for his brother and him. But not like this. He didn't want this.

His mother had never said anything about his father, Faheem. He knew nothing about him, and he always just assumed that, that was because his mother was protecting him. But protecting him from what? He shook his head and laid down, hugging a cushion and staring off to the side at the wall. There must be a good reason for all of this. He felt his eyes droop and become heavy, letting out a yawn as he let his eyes close. A nap might do him good after the days of traveling...

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><p>Malik didn't wake up till the next day just as dawn was hitting. He got dressed in his training clothes, since he was told they'd start classes today. He was a bit more anxious than he cared to admit, waking his brother up and making him get dressed as well. By the time Tamir had come to get them, both of them were bouncing and ready to go (mostly Kadar doing said bouncing). They walked down and out of the dorm room building and into the courtyard in front of it, where many students of different ranks were sitting around eating and conversing.<p>

Majid approached them, smiling and handing them a bowl of their food and leading them to a base of a tree, where they sat and ate. "When do classes start?" Malik asked, after finishing up his food.

"When the cooks are all packed out the teachers will come and take their respected class."

"Who is our teacher?" Kadar asked, looking about for anyone that he could see being older, that could qualify his ideal teacher.

"Jalil Al Haseem, he will start your class out with the learning of the creeds and certain rules you must abide if you want to become an assassin."

Malik noted as Majid took their bowls to put them away that the cooks were beginning to pack their things, many older assassins dressed in robes much like Tamir and Majid entered the courtyard, some of the older students hopping up and going to their respective teacher automatically. The rest of the children that were left were about Malik and Kadar's age, either looking confident and knowing, neutral, or scared about what was to come. Kadar was the only one in the group who hopped in place looking up at Majid and Tamir who smiled and told them to go with the others.

The older of the brothers edged forward after his younger brother, looking around at the other students in his class. His eyes landed on the boy from yesterday, who's father they met. He couldn't recall his name, but noted that he was one of the neutral ones, who didn't show if they were scared or not.

"Good to see so many new, and so many familiar faces."

Malik looked up at his teacher, Jalil Al Haseem. He was a tall man, very skinny, very pale, yet he had a smile on his face that could light up any dark room. He looked at each individual student and smiled at them, giving them all unique looks of kindness. As his eyes stopped to meet Malik's he paused, raising a brow, his smile not dispersing.

They soon made a circle, and were going around the circle stating their names, and what they hope to accomplish by following the creed. Most had the reasoning of making the world a better place. His brother stated that he simply wanted to prove himself, which shocked Malik after never thinking his brother really needed to.

"My names Malik Al-Sayf, and I hope to..." he paused, his brows furrowing slightly as he thought. He didn't really have a reason. "I hope to accomplish all that my father did and more..."

Kadar's mouth opened slightly, as the boy next to Malik went. He tried to get his older brother's attention, but Malik stared at the ground, ignoring everything. His father must have been a great assassin. If he was not, people wouldn't look at him with such curiosity.

"You're Faheem's boys then?" Malik jolted from his thoughts, turning and looking back at his teacher, Kadar now next to him.

"Yes, sir."

"My names Jalil. Your father was a great man. You're going to have to work hard to fill his shoes."

That statement was all the motivation Malik really needed. He looked to Kadar and smiled, tilting his head to the side, "I'm going to train hard."

The younger brother smiled and nodded his head, his fists clenched at his sides as he hopped once, "Me too!"

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

Thanks to Becca and Song Of The Midnight Wolf for the reviews, and thank you very much for all the alerts and favorites just with the first chapter! I hope you all continue to enjoy this story, and remember please review! Even a simple one worded review makes my day and inspires me to keep going or work on my writing :)


	3. Chapter 3

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 3

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><p>A week passed quickly, and when their training classes started they weren't exactly expecting what they were given. They were already so busy learning to read, learning the rules of the creed, and memorizing passages of a book they were told to follow. Malik's first time with a blade was rather clumsy, but Kadar and most of the class was an even worse display, not even coming close to getting the forms they were told to do, down. By the end of the first class period, Malik had the form down next to perfectly along with Umar's son Altair, whom the older of the two brothers assumed had training prior by his father.<p>

Tamir and Majid had not had the time to tell Malik or Kadar about their father, Faheem. They were soon set off on a mission by Al Mualim, and left to find their own way around the grounds that they were not familiar with. By the fourth day, they made friends with a girl in their group named Amani Du'a'. She was the daughter of one of the teachers in an older group, and knew the grounds very well. She helped the two brothers out by guiding them where to go, and ate with them during their breaks.

Despite the fact that the two brothers were proceeding with their classes just fine, did not leave out their curiosity for their father. During one of the lessons, Malik got curious and asked Jalil and their blade teacher Karem if they could tell them about him at all. Both were anything but helpful, only stating that he was excellent with the use of swords and other blades, but personally they did not know very much about him.

The fact that he did not know anything about what his father was like bothered him. Anyone they talked to always stated that their father was a great man, but nothing more other than a comment about his sword skills. By the beginning of the new week, the older of the two brothers got the nerve to ask the one other person other than Majid that would definitely know about him: Al Mualim.

Walking into the building where Al Mualim usually was found, the young novice found himself suddenly scared. What if the elder man didn't have a proper answer for him? Or what if what he was told would make his opinion of his father even worse than it already was?

He stepped into the garden area, where he was referred to go by one of the Assassins in the library. He fidgeted, rolling his fingers together as he stepped further into the place he had a minor glance at two weeks ago. He spotted the master Assassin by a flower bush, and slowly approached him, bowing his head in respect as the older man turned to him.

"I had a feeling I'd be seeing you or your brother sooner or later," the man mused, smiling as he stepped forward and turning his chin up to look at him. "You have come to ask me about your father, correct?"

Malik nodded, "Yes, sir. Is there anything you could tell me about him?"

"He was excellent with the blade, a talent that, I have been told, has been passed down to you." Malik knew this, but gritted his teeth as he refrained from stating this fact. "He was committed to the creed, and was willing to do anything to save the lives of innocents. He, however, was not born into the creed. He was a wanderer, and a cunning thief, a talent he was not as proud of. He left the safety of his home on a journey to seek a way to save people. When he returned to Acre in defeat, his brother informed him of the Creed, which he had joined into two years prior. Faheem was hesitant, but the more he learned of our ways the more dedicated he grew. He learned, just as you and Kadar have been doing, growing fast into the man that everyone knew."

"I do not understand..." Malik whispered, lowering his head, the older man staring down at him to continue his words. "Why would our mother be against us knowing about him? If he was such a great man, why would she protect us from all of this?"

Al Mualim shook his head and placed his hand on Malik's shoulder, "I do not know why your mother was against our Creed. It is possible that she did not want to see you boys killed as your father was. Majid is more informed of that, and when he returns I suggest speaking to him of the matter."

Malik thanked the master for the information, and hurried off to class, knowing full well if he stayed to talk more he'd be late. He met up with Amani and Kadar, sitting next to his brother, as their teacher stood at the front. "Today," Karem stated, pulling out a bag of wooden blades, "We will be practicing fighting techniques along with the forms..."

And that was just how it was, day after day. Learning and growing. Majid and Tamir never did return, but there was never word that they had fallen, and whenever Malik questioned any of the masters they stated they either did not know, or told him that they had gone over seas. Amani and Kadar became closer friends than with Malik, always going off on their own, leaving Malik to read in the library or practice sword fighting with one of the dummies in class.

Malik's birthday was coming up fast, he was going to be eleven this month, and he doubted anyone was going to remember. The only ones that ever did was Kadar and Amani, only due to the fact Kadar would never miss his older brother's birthday, or so he claimed. Malik was sure if he was given good reason his younger brother would miss it, not that he was going to start such an argument with him.

The three approached their sword fighting class, Kadar and Amani going through the same routine of running off to the back of the class to meet up with two of their other classmates Malik didn't care to remember the names of while he sat near the front of the class, listening and waiting for their sword master Kareef La'Hakem to draw order to the class. As always, when they were drawn to order, Kareef and his assistant Fatih ordered them to retrieve their wooden blades and practice their forms and pick partners to fight against. Malik always had a hard time picking a partner, not wanting to really go out of his way to talk to anyone, but also not wanting to be alone.

Altair was the only one aside from Malik who was not noisy and wild as they chose their partners. Most of the ten year old's were to busy being children then paying attention to anything that the master assassins had to offer most of the time, even with five years of discipline and teachings. During this time, Kareef took the opportunity to pull Malik and Altair to the side. It was their first time being that close to each other, which surprised Malik as to how attractive the other was up close. He was handsome, even at the age of ten. He was built well to the point where you knew that he'd grow up to be a strong man. His amber eyes were always curious, but his thoughts always silent, listening and learning.

"I don't want you two to hurt each other, alright?" the master stated, handing them both real swords. They were lightweight, still used just for training purposes, but they weren't wooden like the other novices had to use.

The two boys faced each other, posing in the position they were told to start in. As they made eye contact, Malik hesitated, his eyes unable to leave the other's even as he lurched forward gliding his sword forward swiping it out of the smaller boy's hand. He gaped at his hand, shocked at how fast the other boy was, rushing to pick up his blade.

"Your opponent will not wait for you to be ready, Malik. Try again," the Kareef scolded, making the young boy blush in embarrassment.

Altair flashed Malik a smile of encouragement, making the boy go even redder as he held out his sword, posing once again. They both lurched forward, clashing their swords together. They both tried out moves on each other oblivious to the group of novices crowding around and watching in awe of their fight and of how much skill they possessed.

They seemed to be an even match, unable to force the sword from their opponents hand, their eyes ablaze with excitement and a sort of courage that only welding a blade would give. Finally, as fate would have it, Malik's blade swiped to the side, causing Altair to lose his grip, a clanging from the sword was heard in the silence interrupted by gasps of breath from both boys, who smiled foolishly at each other, panting in their sudden realization of their exhaustion.

"Very good boys," the master complimented, smiling at them, taking their swords as other novices clapped around them. Murmurs erupted from the crowd as the others began to gossip about how strong their classmates were, and about how they needed to pay attention more, which amused Malik to some degree.

"You're very good with the blade," Altair complimented, speaking softly, rubbing the back of his head.

"As are you," Malik said in return, smiling at the other, who smiled in return, "I'm Malik A-Sayf." he said.

"I am Altair Ibn-La'Ahad."

"Your father is a master assassin?" Malik asked, gazing at him curiously. Of course he already knew this, who didn't? He simply asked to be polite.

"Yes, though I am not nearly as good as he is. He is very talented."

"You have room to grow, Altair."

Malik and Altair turned, looking back at Umar, who stood behind them. The man smiled walking over and putting his hand on the taller boy's shoulder, "I hear I missed a good fight between the two of you?"

"Yes, Baba," Altair nodded, lowering his head as the older man smiled wide.

Malik didn't think it would be all that fun to have a talented father such as the elder Ibn-La'Ahad. So much to live up to, so many people putting faith in you even if you had none yet in yourself. He assumed it would be very lonely, since everyone would only want to be your friend because of his father being famous among them.

"And you are Malik Al-Sayf correct?" Malik gave a nod, "It has been a while since I last saw you, you're growing to look more and more like your father each day."

"Thank you, Sir..." Malik didn't know if that was the right response, but also did not know if he should just remain quiet. Umar smiled, and nodded his head. He supposed the was his way of saying goodbye as he turned to leave, leaving the two boys alone once again. "I'd like to spar with you again some time," he stated, the other boy raising his brows in curiosity.

"Perhaps we should pair up together when we are assigned partners?" Altair suggested, Malik nodding at the idea. The boys turned their heads as they noticed the novices sitting down and awaiting their mentor's instructions on what to do next. They grinned knowingly at each other, heading back over to the group and sitting down on the two cushions next to each other.

It was a nice feeling: to have a friend. Altair wasn't someone Kadar introduced to him, nor did he think he'd have to share with his younger brother. This fact alone left him feeling a swell of happiness. So many years of having to share things with him: food, beds, their room, anything and everything. He grinned to himself at the thought. Sure, he was being selfish, but as their mentor always stated: "Even though we are brothers, we need to keep in mind that it is alright to be a little selfish at times. You can do things for yourself every once in a while. It is not a sin."

And that's just what Malik wanted to do. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to have a friend he could call his own.

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><p>Notes:<p>

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><p>Thank you all for the reviews and the story alerts, and favorites. I hope that this chapter does not disappoint you~ Mal and Alty fight scene~ Weee~<p>

Please continue to review, it helps me keep going on to know you are enjoying it~


	4. Chapter 4

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 4

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><p>Malik glanced upward at a sound, setting his quill down as he stood and walked to the entrance of the bureau. He was prepared for anything, or so he hoped. He pulled out a blade and pointed it upward to the entrance, his breath hitched in the back of his throat. Who would drop down? Would anyone? He shook his head after a moment and walked over to the desk, setting the sword down on the table, tracing the markings on the handle with his index finger.<p>

The handle was carefully carved of wood, a special blade that Altair had made especially for Malik many years ago. He closed his eyes and sighed, walking back over to the book and sitting down leaning over as he picked up his quill and dipped it in ink. He supposed that paranoia didn't suit him, especially after what had happened just days ago. He pressed the tip of his writing instrument to the paper, and continued to write...

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><p>Malik and Altair were put together as room mates a year after they first met. Their masters gave them that one luxury as they started to pair them with other students instead of each other. The two found it frustrating, but didn't speak out against it. Malik was going to turn twelve soon, Altair already being thirteen. It was nearly one year age difference, but the fact that Altair's father was still alive and well it made it difficult to argue with the fact that he wanted his son to rank faster than the other novices.<p>

One night after dinner, Malik was in their room, reading a roll of scrolls, his lip curled up in a fixed smile as he read the story the paper held. It had become a normal thing for the other to arrive late, so it didn't surprise him when Altair walked in, looking worse for wear.

He had cuts all over, one particularly deep on on his lip. The younger boy stared at him, confused, watching him stagger over to his cot and lay back, letting out a deep breath he was holding. He rolled up his scroll and sat up, crossing his legs and looking to him as he breathed deeply, his eyes closed. If Malik didn't know better, he'd assume he had fallen asleep.

"You should probably see the doctor for your lip," Malik stated, standing up and grabbing a cloth from their side table, walking over to him and pressing it against his mouth. He grinned at his room mates stubbornness when he shook his head, and took the cloth from him, keeping it pressed against the wound. "Did you eat?"

"A bit..." the younger boy couldn't tell what the other was thinking, he never could. Altair had this vibe about him that he was always in thought, staring into the distance but still paying attention. "I heard the masters talking, seems you are to be ranked up into my class tomorrow," he informed.

"Oh." Was he happy about this bit of information? Slightly. It scared him, in a way. Ranking up meant more responsibility. Last time he was ranked up he was given more reading to do, something he didn't mind, but who knew what all you'd be placed with. Altair was placed with minor missions when he was ranked to his current rank, would Malik be the same?

There was a knock on the door, one of their guards peeking in and smiling kindly to them, "It's lights out boys," he informed them, closing the door behind him. The two boys grinned at each other slightly, the younger leaning over and blowing out the fire from the candle, and scooting back to lay down, his hand searching around for his favorite cushion. Once he found it he pressed his head against it, sighing softly at the comforting feeling it always brought him.

Nearly an hour had passed, but Malik had yet to fall asleep. It wasn't because of discomfort, anything but that. But the feeling of knowing something was going to happen tomorrow, good or bad, was keeping him awake and restless. He half wished that Altair had kept that bit of information to himself, even though he knew he was only giving him a heads up so he wouldn't be surprised.

He blinked looking behind him as he felt his cot move. Scooting back, and turning over he could see (with help from the moonlight coming in through the window) it was Altair. Confused, he raised a brow, the older boy shrugging and laying his head on one of the cushions, closing his eyes, "You seem tense," he stated, simply.

Malik gulped and sat up slightly, moving the covers to pull them over him, just figuring he was only trying to comfort him. "I'm alright," he replied, the other 'tsking' softly and poking his forehead twice.

"You don't have to lie. What other reason could there be for you still being up?"

"Well why are you?" Malik countered, giving him a look making the other only smile and shrug, re-closing his eyes. "I suppose you are going to just sleep here?" he asked, the other opening his mouth as to fake sleep. He rolled his eyes and laid back down, "Fine, but just for tonight."

That night was the first night Malik had ever slept so well. He awoke the next morning more happy than he ever felt, and he could not even explain why. It had to be magic, at least in his eyes. As he got dressed and ready to go he lightly kicked the cot, Altair groaning and sitting up looking at him through squinted eyes, "Get up or you'll miss breakfast," he stated, grinning as he turned, leaving the other to get ready.

He got two bowls of a soup looking substance that they happened to be having this morning and sat in a pile of hay, setting one of the bowls on the ground, and taking a sip of his own. Altair made it down to him moments later, sitting in the pile and smiling his thanks to him, sipping at the soup.

"Malik!"

Malik turned his head upward, a smiling Kadar stood bouncing up and down, his hands held in front of him that reminded him of a bunny rabbit. He must have some sort of good news, or so the older brother had hoped.

"Malik! Tamir and Majid are back!" he exclaimed, reaching down to grab his hand and yanking him upward, "Come on! Come on!"

Looking down at Altair, he looked for some sort of hint for him to go. The other smiled and waved his hand, giving him the go ahead, causing the younger boy to smile back and rush after his brother up the steps to where the two men were resting.

"You're back!" Kadar called, busting into the room and running to the first person he could hug: Tamir. The older man laughed and picked him up much like a father would and hugged the boy, Malik standing at the entrance to the room, watching the scene with a neutral expression on his face. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned, grinning slightly at the sight of his uncle, who was smiling down at him.

The two hadn't changed much except for a few new scars and a few new lines on their faces. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was glad that, that was the only thing that seemed to change about them. "How was your mission?" he asked, his training telling him to ask them this first.

"It went well, my... it's only been a few years but you two are growing so fast," Majid mused, placing his hand on Malik's shoulders smiling even wider as he looked down at him, "You're going to be twelve soon, right? Almost a man already..."

"Al Mualim said he was being promoted to the next rank today," Tamir stated, Kadar looking to him, his mouth gaping slightly having not known this news, "You're on your way to being a real assassin aren't you Malik?"

"Like father like son," Majid stated, letting go of his shoulders and leaning down slightly to be eye-to eye with him, "I believe I owe you two some stories, right?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, earning a nod from both boys, "Alright, after dinner then." Standing upright he looked towards the window, the bell for daily lessons being sound, ringing four times before stopping. "Well, off to class with you both."

Malik waited a moment for Kadar, then headed out, starting down the stairs. He was waiting for it. His brother was going to question him... In 3...2...1... "Malik did you know you were being ranked up today?"

"Mhm, Altair told me."

"I don't know how you can be friends with him, he always seems so stiff..."

"It's not always about what you can see, brother. If you based all your knowledge on just that you'd be missing out on a lot about a person."

"Ah, Malik. There you are." Malik stopped and looked up into the eyes of Al Mualim, who stood straight, his hands behind his back. He had been expecting the master. He usually did tend to show up when an assassin was moving up a rank. "You will not be attending your normal classes anymore. I'm sure you've been informed of your progression, and you will be advanced to a higher more responsible rank. Do you think you can handle it?" The master grinned, a friendly smile as he looked down at the boy.

Malik nodded and bowed his head slightly in respect, "Yes, Master Al Mualim. Thank you for this advancement," he thanked, placing a hand over his heart, the older man smiling wider and ruffling his hair making him look up and smile as well.

"Altair is waiting for you in the courtyard, you will be accompanying him on a mission today."

"Yes sir," he nodded and turned, rushing off without even saying another word, or saying anything to Kadar. He ran down the stairs and smiled stopping as he saw his friend and room mate staring up at the sky, his hood dawned as normal when they were not in their room. He quickly pulled his hood over his own head and walked over, standing shoulder to shoulder with him and looking up to notice an eagle flying overhead.

"I wish we were given wings," Altair whispered, looking over at the other, "It must be so freeing. Like a leap of faith..." After a moment of silence the older assassin grinned and turned around, "Lets get you some proper equipment.

Altair led Malik into a room filled with real swords, and real armor. Malik looked over them, putting on the gauntlets and other equipment that the other handed to him, and paused staring at a particular gauntlet that puzzled him, "What's this?" he asked, Altair's brows raising as he smiled slightly.

"Hidden blade. Master says that that is for a higher ranked assassin. The downfall to it is you need to give up a finger to use it." That alone was enough to get the younger boy to look away from it. He didn't want a new piece of equipment that badly.

"So what exactly are we suppose to do?" he asked, wondering if it was really that necessary to be carrying all this protection.

"There's a nearby village that has been said to be invaded by Templars. We are to go in and search about for any signs. Since you aren't aware of them I'm suppose to point them out if there is any. Afterward we are to report back to Al Mualim. It's an overnight mission, we'll probably be back by mid day tomorrow."

"Oh..." Malik suddenly felt the need to fake sick at this. Overnight? He didn't want to miss out on the stories that Kadar was going to hear tonight about their father. Nor did he think that his room mate, despite being one of his closest friends, was going to remember what tomorrow was. "Are we to bring food?" he asked, looking for something to talk about so he didn't have to think about such things.

"All covered," he grinned, holding up a small bag that he slung over his shoulder. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Malik nodded.

As they headed out of the headquarters they passed a group of novices' that he knew his brother was among. They were smiling, and listening to the words that the assassin was telling them, watching as he moved about, teaching them ways to dodge the swing of a blade. He grinned, and turned his head away, recalling being in such groups, and watching higher ranked assassins leave on missions, and how he envied them. Now it was the other way around, he was now at the rank where he'd be in that position, but he only wished to be among the lower ranks. As selfish as it seemed, he wanted to hear about his father as much as Kadar did, and craved to stay behind despite his new responsibility.

"It gets easier," Altair stated once they passed through the gates and into the town below.

"What?" Malik asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Leaving. Disappointment. I was feeling down on my first mission as well. Don't worry, the feeling will pass."

'_I don't think you understand,_' Malik thought, nodding instead of voicing this out loud. '_You know your father. You know what he is like. I'm jealous of that..._'

Altair stopped in front of two horses that another man in a hood led to them. He climbed up on top of a black one, Malik mounting on the brown one following his friend out and onto the road. "So it's not that far?" he questioned.

"Only about a two hour ride. I've been here several times now, and know the quickest way," he replied confidently. "Who knows. Maybe if we find some proof of Templars being there we can go home early and make it back before your birthday."

Malik paused, blinking and staring at the back of the other. He remembered? He suddenly broke out in a grin, looking down as he shook his head, "I'm not worried about it," he convincingly lied, the other nodding without looking back at him. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad... Spending his birthday with his friend.

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><p>Notes:<p>

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><p>Bit of a slow chapter, but the next is where the fun begins~ Malik's first mission~ What will go wrong? Is there anything even going to go wrong? You'll have to wait and see xD;<p>

Please review~ It lets me know what you are thinking, good bad, or both~


	5. Chapter 5

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 5

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><p>It wasn't an especially long trek, but it wasn't exactly eventful either. Altair and Malik galloped half the way to the village of Arihah*, the rest of the way simply trotting. They didn't speak much, since mostly all the information Malik wanted to know would be best to be shown instead. They made eye contact every so often, as well as said something here or there, but for the most part it was completely silent.<p>

Malik found it a bit odd that the only sign of life they saw on the whole two and a half hour trek was birds, a few rodents, and two people who didn't even bother to look up at them as they walked. But since they didn't run into trouble, Altair had stated once they saw the village in the distance that it was a good sign that there were no Templar spies hiding out. Still, even though that was the first sign that they were clear, there were many more they needed to look out for.

They set their horses off to the side at a small stable, where Altair paid to have them watched and fed. The village wasn't exactly small per-say, more like a city with a small amount of people. This gave the Templars the upper hand if there was any since there were many places that they could hide. Why there were so many buildings for so little people were beyond them, but it also meant there was a place for them to hide for the night if they ended up staying that long.

"This brings back an eerie feeling," Malik stated, after the third alleyway they walked through. It was a feeling the boy had forgotten up until he laid eyes on the first alleyway. It was cold and dark, much like the one he and his brother had lived in when they were street rats in Acre.

"Oh, you lived on the streets before, right?"

He nodded, "It's been almost four years but it feels like a past life. I never want to live like that again." It was nearly the fifth alleyway they walked down before Malik halted and looked down. He bent over and scrunched his nose up, looking upward at Altair, who's brows were furrowed. "Blood and water?" the younger boy asked, the older nodding his head and looking about.

Malik stood and walked down the alleyway a bit before stopping and gasping. Ahead was a woman, laying on the ground crying, her stomach bulged out, which she was clutching. "Help me," she called out to him, reaching her shaking hand to him, her eyes squinted as she made a whining sound of being in pain.

"Altair!" he called back, his eyes not leaving the woman, listening to the sounds of his friend's footsteps as he ran over.

"What do we do?" Altair whispered, staring down at the woman, his eyes bulging.

"Like I know, I don't even know whats happening!" Malik exclaimed, the other looking at him in horror.

"She's having a baby, Malik!"

"She's what?"

"Just find someone!" The woman screamed out, clutching at the front of her clothing, tears streaming down her face.

"Right, you hold her hand, I'll go get help," Altair stated, turning and rushing out of the alleyway.

Malik gulped and edged forward, reaching his hand out, which the woman snatched. She looked in pain, her brows so tensed that they looked as if they were one. She huffed, clutching the boy's hand desperately staring at a fixed spot on the wall across as if it was going to save her from the misery.

Two men bounded towards them, a woman following them shouting them orders as they moved Malik out of the way and helped her up. They led her away, the woman looking to him and taking his shoulder leading him out as well. Altair joined them, grabbing Malik's hand, the two looking to each other worried as they were led to a house.

They waited in a corner, in the room next to where they took the woman giving birth. They never once let go of each other's hands, always declining the offer for food or water when the man of the house would offer. They knew it was rude, but even though they were in this tense situation, they also knew that they didn't know anything about anyone in this house other than the woman was in pain, screaming out as if she was being tortured.

Despite the screaming, an hour into the birth Malik's head was the first to fall, landing on Altair's shoulder as he fell asleep. The two's energy was completely sapped from the stress of not knowing what was going on, the older of the two's eyes drooped not very long after his friend had fallen asleep. He forced himself to stay up, only lasting another half an hour before his head fell too, resting against the other's.

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><p>Malik was surprised to find himself being the first one to wake up, the man of the house sitting on the other side of the room writing at a desk, his wife sitting in front of a fire cooking something in a pot. He let his eyes shift to the side to see it was nearly dark out and looked down at Altair who had his head in his lap. It was odd how much calmer he was when he was asleep, and even though he had seen his sleeping face now many times before, he could say he was never really tired of it.<p>

He blinked and looked up as a bowl of stew was held out to him. He slowly took it, careful to hold it up so not to touch his sleeping friend and looked up at the woman who gave it to him. "How is she?" he asked, referring to the woman who was giving birth hours ago.

"She had just fallen asleep before you awoke. It was a healthy baby girl, and thanks to you and your friend we were able to help her, else she would have given birth in the street," she walked over to a chair and sat down, cradling a bowl of her own in her hand and eating a spoonful.

"My name is Malik by the way," he said, looking back down at the food and swirling it around with his spoon.

"My name is Marya, and that is my husband Jespar," she smiled.

"Oh, this is my friend Altair... when did he fall asleep?"

"Oh not long after you," Jespar stated, taking a bite of his own meal, sitting back in his chair, "Do you boys not have a home?" he questioned, tilting his head to the side as he looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, well we are from Acre. He wanted to find his father, who was said to be in Jerusalem..."

"Well you boys are a bit turned around, aren't you?" he questioned, turning to face him this time.

"Yes, unfortunately we got lost a couple of days ago, but tomorrow we should be heading in the right direction," he smiled, then blinked looking down at Altair, who seemed to be doing the best impression of a person just waking up.

"Good cover" he whispered under his breath, the woman standing and fetching a bowl of stew for him as well.

The four ate in silence, Altair's eyes were fixed to the ground not allowing Malik a moment of communication before a loud cry was heard, everyone's heads shooting to the side, the two boys a look of terror, the woman a look of concern, and the man more of annoyance. Marya stood and walked into the other room, more than likely to attend to the baby in the other woman's stead.

"Thank you for your hospitality sir, but I'm afraid we should probably be going, our horses were not paid to be watched for very long and we should probably start moving on," Altair stood and walked to the door, bowing his head and leaving, Malik standing in a hurried rush, thanking him as well as he followed his friend out.

"Why the hurry? I thought we had a plan to stay a bit longer to keep an eye out?" Malik asked, Altairs head shaking in response.

"Jespar and Marya are not from this village. Did you notice, the house was a bit unkept as if the owners have not been there for quite some time. I hadn't fully slept as you did either, and when I faded in and out I heard them talking about how this was a delay in their plans. I'm sure that that could only mean they are working for someone and keeping an eye out for something bigger."

"Templars?" Malik asked as they approached the gate.

"More than likely, but even so... We were sent to look for any signs, not actual yes or no's, and we have a big one to report."

After retrieving their horses, they galloped into the night without more than another word. Malik didn't quite understand all that was happening, and even so it was the first time he really even came close to being encountered with a Templar, even if Marya and Jesper were not.

By the time they reached Masyaf it was nearly midnight. The gates were locked, not that that really kept the two out. They climbed up the edge of a cliff behind the Masyaf castle, and crawled across ropes as they made their way inside. Al Mualim would more than likely be asleep, which simply meant they had to go straight to bed and wake up early to give him the news.

Altair was a bit to quiet for Malik's liking, more so than usual. His face was fixed in a serious frown, staring at the ground as they walked up the stairs to their room. They passed a guard who was dozing up until he spotted them, simply nodding his hello then nodding off as soon as they left his sight. They changed into their sleeping clothes, and climbed into bed, both without a word. The younger boy was itching to say something, but couldn't manage to as he stared at the wall in the moon light. It seemed like there was something wrong, something that the other was not telling him. Whatever that was, he wish he'd at least tell him.

The older assassin had a way of telling Malik unnervingly useless bits of information, but holding important details back. This was the only thing that really unnerved the smaller boy in the end. Perhaps it was just a flaw, a bad habit that Altair needed to work on. They were, after all, room mates, friends, and partners, why couldn't he trust him?

He blinked and looked to the side, feeling his cot move much like it did the previous night. Rolling his eyes he scooted over slightly so that the other could get under the blankets with him. "Again?" he cooed, Altair simply grinning very slightly, and pulling up his hood, holding his arms to himself as he closed his eyes. "If you are caught by anyone in my bed you know that we both will be in trouble?" he asked.

"Everyone thinks we are in Arihah except the guard, but he was half asleep so how does he know we weren't really just a dream?" he responded, peeking at Malik through his lashes.

"I guess your right..." He didn't want to admit it out loud, but he rather liked sharing his bed with Altair. It was a different feeling entirely from when he had to share a bed with Kadar. It was forced with his brother, but now it was willing with his friend. He wondered briefly on why this was, but simply shrugged to himself and allowed his eyes to close. At least now he could sleep faster.

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><p>Malik groaned slightly as he awoke to the sun in his eyes. He felt something around his waist, and blinked looking down, gawking at the fact that Altair had his arms wrapped around his stomach, his face pressed to his side almost possessively. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it not even know what he could possibly say to this sight. He scratched his chin, his brows furrowing as he looked off to the side, huffing lightly at the lack of any sort of idea.<p>

"Erm," he resulted in lightly shaking the other, a brow raised as he watched the curiously changing expressions on his room mates face as he woke up, "Altair... wake up," he coaxed, watching his eyes squint as he slowly let go of the younger boy and sitting up.

"Mmmmph," he rubbed his face with his hands and slowly looked back at him, blinking away the sleep that was still apparent in his eyes, "Uh...mmm yeah?" he finally formed a word through his muffled sounds.

"You were... holding me..." Malik stated slowly, the other's face blanching as he looked at the seriousness in the younger boy's eyes.

"I...was?" Malik nodded. "Oh... I'm sorry, I didn't know," he slid off the bed and staggered to the side, plopping back in his own laying his head back against the pillow, covering his eyes with his hands.

It was as if someone was watching them from above, because as soon as Altair fell back asleep their door opened, Al Mualim walking inside looking both livid and eager. He looked from Malik, to Altair then back to Malik his eye brows raising as if asking for an explanation. "When did you get in?" he questioned.

"Late last night," Malik stated, knowing full well that the older man knew the answer without him having to say anything.

"And what happened?"

"I um, I'm not really sure sir. While we were searching the village we came across a woman who was giving birth. We hurried to retrieve someone to help her and stayed till supper time," he paused, leaving out the fact that they had fallen asleep, "The two who helped the woman out were rather nice, but Altair said he had to leave and on the way out of the city told me that they were not there for very long, that they had said something about the woman giving birth was a delay in some plans that they had."

Altair was now up, Malik noticed, rubbing the back of his neck and nodding as Al Mualim looked at him for confirmation, "Alright, it's not much to go off of, but it does give reason for us to further look into the village... Now, I have some grave news Altair..." he looked almost pained as his good eye drifted to the floor.

The older of the two boys stared intently at Al Mualim, his brows furrowed as his fixed gaze stared up at the man, awaiting whatever it was that he had to say. "Your father Umar has been imprisoned by Salah Al'din... He is set to be executed in order to make a treaty between the Saracens and the Assassins... He murdered a nobleman by the name of Aariz Riyad in his attempt to flee during a mission," the man trailed off as he looked into the boy's eyes, which were clouded with both confusion and depression, "I am deeply sorry, Altair," he stated, folding his hands in front of him as if he was trying to be forgiven himself. **

When Altair had said nothing, Al Mualim nodded and turned walking out of the room, making sure the door was closed on his way out. He stayed in the same place for a few minutes, Malik not daring to move or say a word as he stared at his room mate, afraid of what he was going to do and say. Ten minutes passed, Malik scooting to the edge of his bed his eyes not wavering from the other.

"I knew it was going to happen someday," he breathed out, making the smaller man freeze at his words. "I just didn't know when..." he looked over to the other, tears brimming his eyes, "I shouldn't cry, I know that... He is a horrible father, but... He is mine..." his head dropped, the tears beginning to fall. At the sight of the other crying, Malik shook his head getting up and rushing across the room, embracing him almost immediately, the other turning into him to cry on his shoulder. "He is..." hic "My father..."

"I know..." Malik rubbed his back softly, keeping his arms around the shaking boy, "No one can replace your biological father... But just try to remember the times you did have with them, no matter good or bad, they are your memories and although he won't be here... no one can take those from you... so in a sense he won't be leaving you at all," he said softly, the other nodding slightly, tears still falling.

Altair was so vulnerable, it nearly broke the younger man's heart. He felt the other let out a shaky sigh as he tried to calm his crying only to hiccup and start to cry once again. He could only imagine how his friend was feeling right now. Sure, his mother was killed in front of him, but the more he thought about this fact now the more he realized that it was for the better. If he had never lost his mother, he would never had come to Masyaf. He would never had learned to use any sort of weapon with any sort of skill. He would have never met Majid and Tamir, and more importantly, he would have never had this moment with Altair. Albeit it was a sad moment, but without his mother's death he would never see a side of his friend that he was sure not many people in his lifetime would ever know or see.

He felt a hand on his cheek, his eyes coming back into focus as he was wrenched from his thoughts. Altair's eyes were red, his cheeks wet, but at least the tears had stopped. Should he say anything? He wasn't quite sure if he needed or wanted to. In that moment, he did not know if it was just the emotions that the other was feeling, but as soon as he leaned up, crushing their lips together all his thoughts went blank, his eyes widening, his heart rate raising, his arms falling from around the other as he stared in shock at the boy who pulled back and looked down his brows furrowed.

"I guess... we should get breakfast," Altair stated, rubbing the sleeves of his robes on his eyes as he stood and got dressed, not looking at the shocked Malik who still sat on the bed, staring now at the wall in a zombie-like state. "I'll save you a bowl," he heard the other state as he left the room.

As soon as the door closed, Malik's head shot to the door, his eyes still widened. His mind was racing, so many questions, so many concerns flying about as he lifted his right hand to touch his fingers against his lips. "Did that... just happen?"

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><p>Notes:<p>

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><p>*Arihah, Syria is a city approximately 115 KM away from Masyaf. I could not find any historical references of how old it is, nor if it was around or small in the 1100s. It has a population of 55,000+ at the moment, so I used it as a smaller village at this period of a population of about 4-5,000 to work with the story. If any or all of this assumption is incorrect please pardon it and just think of it as what it is: Fan fiction.<p>

** I realize that this happened when Altair was 11, not 13, but to fit with the story I delayed his fathers death till now for reasons I will not reveal till later.

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><p>Poor confused Malik~ Only 12 (remember that now at this point it is officially his birthday) and he has to worry about the thoughts of why and how xD. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, I tried to hurry it in before I went to bed since I am heading off to LA for three days and didn't want to leave you hanging for any longer.<p>

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><p>Please review~ I know with my previous AC story I made a point to reply to every review in the story, but I noticed that more than half of the time I was saying "Thank you" or some fancier version of that... It made me feel more like a robot than anything else;; But know that I love every review that I receive and each and every one makes me smile and makes my day even that much more brighter!<p>

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><p><strong>To Uccan<strong> (and others if you were wondering xD): Thank you so much for the review, I am very glad that you are liking the story, and so sorry for not replying to you directly but you brought up a very good point that I believe everyone should know in case they are wondering. I had sworn that I put a description of Tamir and Majid in somewhere, but to my dismay found that I hadn't * facepalms*

Tamir: dirty blonde hair, shaggy in a badly cut style that sticks out from a slight wrap that goes around his head covering his forehead. (Better example would be sort of like Yusuf from Revelations except the wrap being a bit thinner, hair sticking out to mesh with the rest below in certain layers) Brown eyes and rather pale. He has 3 belts and is a master assassin.

EDIT: I did a rough sketch (really...really rough) of Tamir in 5 minutes to better describe his hair. Please excuse the quality. (kakarikovillage. deviantart. co m/ar t/Tamir-As uf-EXTREMELY-Rough-Sketch-284607 802) Remove the spaces. Or simply go to my profile and click on my DA link there. The image should come up on the front for the next week or so (as of feb. 12th 2012).

Majid: Looks much like a older Malik in the face shape, cleanly shaven (or mild stubble if he is on a mission for a long length of time) Black hair, thick-ish eye brows giving him an almost fierce look, tanned skin. Wears 2 belts, despite being with Tamir for a long length of time he has yet to become a full master assassin.


	6. Chapter 6

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 6

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><p>Altair was surprisingly normal all morning. He received looks of sympathy all throughout the day from the master assassins, but did not react to any of them, and simply grimly smiled whenever one would talk to him, hoping they'd catch the hint that they did not want to talk about it. One particular assassin by the name of Ahmad Sofian, who was the father of one of their same rank assassins named Abbas, tried to talk to the teen a few times, only to stop half way through and walk away. This annoyed even Malik, wondering why the man so desperately tracked him down during the day, then stop mid sentence and walk away.<p>

By the time night fell and the assassins were eating their last meal of the day, the man approached him one final time. "My son is not very skilled with the blade like you Altair, would it be possible if you could become his friend? Teach him?" he asked. Before Altair even answered Malik felt himself grow livid at the thought. Abbas's father was willing to do such a thing to his own son? No matter the motive behind the request, it was still asking Altair to become a false friend with the other, something Malik prayed his friend had sense to decline.

Altair took longer than Ahmad expected to answer. After a moment the older assassin grew tense, staring down at him with desperate eyes. "I cannot, I apologize. I have a partner in our ranks already, as does Abbas. Haydar is skilled with other weapons, possibly request he teach him some of his skill in exchange for learning some of Abbas's?" he suggested, the older assassin sighing and nodding his head, lowering it in defeat.

"Pity, well thank you for your time Altair... And I am sorry about your father. Truly I am."

Without another word Ahmad turned and walked away, leaving Malik and Altair upon the pile of hay with their stew. They began to eat once again, a strong troubling silence befalling them as they stared at the ground.

"I am sorry about what happened this morning," Altair stated slowly, setting his bowl in his lap, turning his head to gaze at his room mate from under his hood, "I can understand if you hate me for it, I do know how wrong it is..."

Malik knew this too. But why didn't he seem to care about it? He nodded his head and smiled lightly, "I don't particularly care to be honest. It simply shocked me is all," he rolled his eyes as Altair gave him a look that told him he didn't believe him, "Honest, Altair. I forgive you."

"What'd Altair do?"

Malik and Altair turned their heads to look at Kadar, who's head was tilted to the side, covered in what looked like hew novice robes. Malik hadn't really noticed how much his brother had grown. He was looking more and more like their mother each day, his smiling face seemed almost to innocent for the line of work they were into.

"He got me the wrong stew, I wanted the...other flavor," Malik stumbled on his words, not knowing why it was suddenly so hard to lie about this.

"Oh," Kadar smiled wider and stood up straighter "Was your mission successful? Al Mualim said that Altair was teaching you some new skills, must be great," he looked at Malik's room mate in an admiring fashion, as if he was a gold idol that he was only allowed to glance at and never touch.

"It went well," Altair cut in, standing up and taking Malik's bowl from him, "Again, I am sorry for getting you the wrong stew. Your brother and you have not spent time together in a while, why not go catch up?"

As bad as it seemed, Malik wanted to do the exact opposite from that. He felt guilty leaving his friend when he was dealing with something so painful as the loss of his father. But despite his conflicted feelings, he nodded his head and smiled down at his little brother, "That sounds like a great idea."

Kadar took his brother's hand and led him away, "I want to show you something," he stated as he began to run up a flight of spiraling stairs. Curious, Malik ran after his brother, his thoughts only wandering back to Altair halfway up the staircase. Once they hit a door, Kadar stopped and huffed as he lurched forward to catch his breath, the elder of the two brothers simply smiled and lightly panted as his younger brother heaved slightly. "How... are you not tired?" he asked, looking up to the other, who simply shrugged.

The smaller boy took one last huff of air before turning and opening the door behind him, walking out on a ledge and smiling as he leaned over the top to look down at the darkening city below. "Isn't it cool? Tamir showed it to me last night. Him and Majid use to hide up here whenever they were avoiding trouble. Apparently father was the one who found it first though."

The mention of their father only made Malik think of his room mate once again, walking to the edge and pretending to be focused on the city below. Was there a way he could cheer him up? He heard a door creak, and looked back, Kadar smiling wide and running over grasping onto Majid who blinked, laughed, then hugged the smaller boy back and looked up to Malik who lightly smiled.

"I heard a couple of boys were running loose up a tower, had to investigate," he stated, smirking as he lifted Kadar up much like a toddler, "You are getting a bit to big for this," he joked, the smaller boy pouting as he looked down. "I heard your mission was a success last night, congratulations Malik."

"Thank you, sir," he thanked, politely.

"You do not need to be formal with me, I'm not a master assassin, and I am after all, your uncle."

"Why aren't you a master assassin, Majid?" Kadar questioned, turning his attention back to the man, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Well, I never saw a need to become one. Tamir is a master, and I am always at his side. We both have nearly the same views on everything, and we confide with each other about everything. If there's a concern I have, he always voices it out for me."

"When did you both become partners? When you joined the creed?" Malik asked, leaning back against the wall of the ledge, looking to him curiously as he sat down across from him, Kadar sitting next to him looking eager for more stories and explanations.

"No, it was a year after Faheem died. Your father was my partner from when he joined the creed. Tamir's partner had committed suicide for an unknown reason, and I was still feeling a loss for my brother. Al Mualim suggested we do a mission together as temporary partners, and have been together ever since. He didn't replace your father, exactly, but he became the best friend I could ever have. I'd be lost without him, he's saved my neck a dozen times-"

"And you have saved mine even more so," Tamir cut in from the doorway, closing the door from behind him and smiling as Kadar bounced at his presence. "Shame on you Majid, starting story time without me, and with such an old topic! You're making an old man feel even older," he smiled and sat down next to the door, biting into an apple he had in his hand.

"Old man, pha! You are two years older than me, that would make me old as well at any rate."

"How old are you?" Kadar questioned, both men grinned knowing one of them was going to ask.

"I'll be thirty-two in a few months, Tamir will be thirty-four in about a week."

"That's not old. Al Mualim is old," Kadar grumbled, crossing his arms as the two older man boomed, laughing, and Malik cracking a smile, "Well he is!" he defended, looking between the three.

"I wonder how old he really is," Tamir mused, Majid grinning as he simply shrugged, "No one really knows how old he is. He's looked that way since I was a novice. I only assume his job makes him look older than he really is. A leader position such as that must be stressful."

They talked well into the night until Kadar had fallen asleep, leaning against their mentor and snoring softly. Majid picked him up and smiled as Malik staggered sleepily to the stairs, "Although you two are a year apart, your age in attitude and wisdom seems to exceeds his by generations. You really are your father's son. He was older than me by two years, but sometimes it seemed like much more than that," he mused, leading the way down the stairs, Tamir following behind Malik, seeming to keep to himself.

The three said their good nights in the hallway of the dorm rooms, Malik ascending the stairs two more flights before reaching his own hall. He walked down to his and Altair's room, and entered, smirking lightly as he saw his friend fake sleeping in Malik's bed.

"You know, I do believe that bed over there is missing your warmth," he stated, changing into his sleeping clothes and flopping back against his bed over the covers. "And I do believe I know when you are asleep and when you are faking it," he stated, poking the other's forehead. Altair nodded, opening his eyes, looking anywhere but to Malik, making the other immediately grow concerned. "What happened?"

"Abbas's father committed suicide... He told me that it was his fault that my father was being killed... and he was sorry," he began, but trailed off, his eyes shifting to look at Malik then the wall across the room once again, "Al Mualim told me that Abbas cannot know the truth. And that he wants me to be his partner instead of you..."

Malik's stomach dropped. He didn't want a new partner. He was just fine with the way things were now. He wanted to end up like Tamir and Majid, where they become so close, confiding in each other, and telling each other everything. He knew that the panic was spreading across his face, the other grinning grimly only confirmed that it was.

"I told him that it was impossible, that I was not giving you up to another person. No matter what you are the only person I know I can trust within our rankings."

The younger man didn't know if he should be flattered, touched, or just incredibly happy. He nodded his head, smiling, glad at this news. "You really trust me that much?" he questioned, softly.

"I do. I honestly don't know why, but there's something about you that makes me feel safe. I believe that if I ever had a brother, he'd turn out to be like you."

Malik knew he was wrong for thinking it, but he wanted to agree with him. That Altair felt more like a brother than anything else, and the fact that it seemed his real brother and him were drifting apart made the thought all the more real. "So, that's the reason you like to share my bed. You are jealous of your brother and how much more comfortable his bed is, isn't it?" he joked, the other grinning in response.

"Yes, and you will just have to deal with sharing."

"I guess if I have to," Malik smiled and sat up, getting under the covers and rolling over, blowing out the candle. "Goodnight Altair."

"Goodnight Malik."

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><p>This became a habit for the two. Every night they'd sleep on Malik's bed, and since Altair was a lighter sleeper than his room mate, every time there was a surprise room inspection to make sure there were no borrowed weapons from classes, or stolen objects from town, the boy took to getting up and fake sleeping in his own bed, or on the floor making it seem like he simply rolled off.<p>

Malik took to going to the library a lot, reading old stories, or true tales of assassins and all they had gone through to keep the order alive and taught to others. Surprising enough, there was not a single scroll about religion, and when he asked Tamir about it the next day after he realized this, he was told that religion was not what tied down the creed.

"Religion is a risky thing," He stated, walking with Malik, as he was doing an inspection around the castle and village for any stray Templar spies or soldiers. "If we included it in the creed, do you think we'd get other people around the world to join our cause? Most wars across the world are started over a difference in religion. No one wants a war to break out within our own cause over something as this. There are a lot of laws based on certain religions, but no one religion is embraced."

At the mention of the laws, Malik frowned. He recalled in the book a few years ago they studied for class one of the laws that he himself was breaking every night. "Tamir... can I ask you something?" he asked slowly.

"You know you can."

"Is it wrong... to have feelings for another man?"

The blonde man stopped and raised a brow at the younger boy, looking down at him curiously, "It really depends on who you ask," he answered.

"And what's your opinion?"

"I believe there is nothing wrong with it, no. You do not choose who you care about. Now I have a question for you," he said, smiling lightly, "What is your opinion?"

"To each their own."

Tamir grinned broader and nodded his head, starting to walk again, "You and I are alike in that sense then. But, be careful on who you let know of this ideal. Many many people believe it is wrong, immoral even. Just having that belief could be the end of you."

After finishing the rounds, Tamir took Malik to his room, so he could meet up with Altair. He certainly hoped that there was a mission awaiting him. He was tired of walking about the town and the castle, and was aching for something better to do than wait around and do nothing.

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><p>Malik glanced up from his journal and walked over to the entrance to the bureau. One of Masyaf's homing pigeons sat up on the ledge, looking down at him as it tilted it's head from side to side. He held his arm out, which the bird swooped down and landed on, and walking up to his shoulder. The Rafiq took the note from it's leg and unrolled it, the words on it making his heart drop. '<em>Maria is pregnant. Come to Masyaf I need to talk to you about the future of the assassins. I am sending the Dai from Acre to come and take your place. When he arrives set out immediately<em>.'

The one armed man sighed and walked over to his desk and writing a small phrase on the parchment, being: "I'll be there", then rolled it and put it on the birds leg. He walked over to the entrance and watched as the bird took off into the sky, flapping as fast as it could. So it was Maria and Altair. He should have known. He was giving his friend the benefit of the doubt, hoping and praying that they were simply friends and nothing more. Were they even married? He rubbed the back of his head in frustration, walking over to his desk again and staring down at the book he had been so avidly writing in. He closed it, then threw it to the ground, a tear falling from the corner of his left eye.

"Stupid...arrogant... selfish..." he grumbled under his breath, clenching his fist as he glared down at the book. "Why don't you ever think of anyone besides your self?" he whispered, leaning over and taking the book, and holding it close to himself. There was nothing more he could do. He loved the other man, but it would seem he no longer returned the feelings. Holding back the tears, he began to pack up his things, keeping the journal on the desk in case he had time to write more before the other Rafiq's arrival.

It wasn't fair. As he put things inside his sack, he glared down, thinking of what he could say to the other, first. He hated this feeling of jealousy, and he honestly never thought he was going to have to ever feel it. "He's mine... not her's..." he whispered, pausing as a small wood carving fell from a cloth he picked up.

"Majid... I don't know what to do..."

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><p>Notes:<p>

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><p>No religion. Nope. I will not play with you and offend anyone. I shall not. The assassins did it for the creed, why can't I? I was talking with a friend about this very topic the other day, and he mentioned that I was going to have to base things on religion since at that time period a lot of people were extremely religious. I refuse. =[ And I hope others approve of me avoiding it at all cost.<p>

Hope you liked the chapter~ And thank you kindly for all the alerts, faves, and the reviews. They mean a lot!

For those of you who looked at the rushed Tamir drawing I had linked last chapter I did a much better, more detailed, and more cared for drawing of both Tamir and Majid which can be found in the link below (minus the spaces as usual).

ht tp:/kakariko village. devi antart. co m/#/d4p vw89

Or like last time you could just go to my profile, click on the link to my DA and it should be on the front page still (as of February17,2012)

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><p>Please review~ The reviews keep me going and inspire me to continue~<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 7

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><p>The Rafiq came only hours after Malik had gotten the message. He didn't dwell on his feelings of being forgotten till the last second, or said much of anything other than "I'll be leaving now, goodbye." As soon as he reached the top of the hill, and was able to look down at his home of Jerusalem, he paused and stared at the many buildings of the large city. Just how many people down in the city were loved and cared for? Just how many people were tossed aside for someone else, and feeling betrayed and sad?<p>

His brows furrowed in anger as he turned his horse back around and slowly walked with a group of people who did not have a horse. He did not want to hurry to the man he loved, not when he had a baby on the way. He knew that their relationship had been rocky ever since Solomon's Temple, but he also knew that they had been reconnecting well. Least, he had thought that up until now. Just how long had Maria and Altair been...?

He shook his head, earning a curious glance from one of the women below him. He gave an apologetic grin, turning his horse around the group, and walking off. He couldn't be around people when his mind was so fixed on something. He always tended to talk to himself, as well as interact. It was a habit of his that usually left him wishing he did not have it, due to people assuming he was a little crazy. Was he crazy? He smiled to himself as he patted the side of his horse. No, he knew he wasn't, but maybe he was going to go mad if nothing was going to go right in his life anymore.

Malik walked until dusk, when he pulled over and smiled as he headed into the woods. He stopped at a small clearing and tied his horse up, taking some hay from a hidden location and putting it by it. He walked back to the location, taking a few small logs, and placing them in a pit that was already laid out. He managed to start a fire within minutes, walking over to a tree and sitting by it, placing his hand upon the carved wood. His fingers traced over the first set of names "Majid and Tamir" then lowered to trace over "Altair and Malik". His hand dropped, his head shaking slightly.

"Why did it all have to turn out this way?" he whispered, standing back up and walking over to the fire. Rummaging through his bag, he pulled out the book again, a quill and some ink that he had packed. He knew he was sad, but he also knew he wanted to finish what he had started. Placing the quill in the ink, he sat up straight, folding his legs and placing the book on his knee to balance it, then took the quill once more, and began to write...

Time flew quickly, soon Malik was about to turn sixteen, Altair already being seventeen and already being a high ranking assassin. He hadn't quite hit master yet, and still had a ways to go before that, but the fact that he had been advancing faster than others made Malik grateful that he was partnered up with him, not that his skills had anything to do with him being friends with him. Altair was growing up fast, more skilled than ever. Every rank he climbed he had earned by his own hands. He was very committed to everything he did, and his partner. Never once did he complain about him, nor would the other.

Malik and Altair were much like Tamir and Majid, and rarely ever seen without the other, making it less than difficult to find one or the other. Malik loved to read, and Altair loved to hear him read. The two could often be found in the library, the higher ranked partner laying on the ground, his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling and listened to the other speak every word as if it were a poem, or a slow but moving song.

When they did not want to be found, they took to the tower that Kadar had shown Malik. There wasn't much to do up there, but they didn't mind. Watching the clouds pass, or just gazing the stars in silence, only enjoying each other's company was good enough for the both of them. Kadar found it all the more silly, but did not ask or say anything to them since Majid and Tamir simply stated that he would understand someday.

Although, despite how attached at the hip both of the partners were, whenever they were apart Tamir and Majid never treated the two brothers anything but equal. The older of the two could have sworn his brother was a bit jealous whenever he was given any attention at all, but didn't dwell on it more than a moment longer. Of course, till his suspicions of his brother's jealousy was confirmed...

After a few months, Kadar started to react much like a spoiled brat, glaring at Malik and clinging to Tamir's arm even though he was a teenager himself. Majid, at first, took it as nothing more than the younger sibling being a younger sibling, but as time wore on him and Tamir both grew tired of it, and resulted in scolding Kadar.

"He is your brother, Kadar. The only one you have, yet here you are treating him like a stranger that is trying to steal something precious from you," Majid stated, on top of the tower. Malik was behind the door, Altair behind him, looking rather awkward as he stared at the ground, able to hear through the cracks from the door.

"I don't care who he is! He's not my brother anymore. Altair's his brother now. I'm just a stupid novice that can not swing a sword right, let alone compare with them!" Kadar yelled back, backing against the wall, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Maybe if you asked your brother for help instead of leaving him behind for your other friends you wouldn't be feeling that way," Majid sighed, rubbing his forehead, shaking his head, Tamir looking from both of them, not sure where he should intervene or how.

Kadar lowered his head, his shoulders slumping forward slightly as he looked off to the side. He knew Majid was right. When they just started to be taught here Malik was always the outcast in the back. Kadar was the popular one with friends, the one who could crack jokes and keep smiling through anything. But he always looked up to Altair, always envied how well he handled everything. When Malik became friends with him, he was jealous. Not because of a lack of friends, but because his older brother had the skills to keep up with his idol. Why couldn't he have them too?

Altair placed a hand on Malik's shoulder, his partner looking to him, his eyes reflecting the sadness that he knew that he'd be feeling. "Come on Malik, we don't need to hear this anymore," he whispered, the younger boy nodding his head as as he started down the stairs first. Altair waited a moment, then turned his head as the door opened behind him. Kadar stood horror struck as he stared into the eyes of his idol. The higher ranked assassin smiled a bit grimly, then started down the stairs after his friend, leaving the novice behind.

The two walked up to their rooms, where Altair let Malik keep to himself by sitting on his own bed, the younger assassin on his. He watched him carefully as Malik laid back and stared up at the ceiling, not moving a muscle once he got comfortable, except to breathe. Should he say anything? He moved back to lean against the wall, watching as Malik turned his head to look at him.

"I had no idea that Kadar felt that way... I noticed the jealousy before, but never to that extent..."

Altair nodded, looking to him sympathetically as his eyes drifted to the ground. There was a knock on the door, the older getting up and opening it. Kadar stood foolishly, his hands held in front of him, his toes pointing together to form his feet in the shape of a V as he looked anywhere but up to the older assassin. "Can I... talk to Malik?" he said, his voice failing to go very high. Altair stepped aside and allowed the smaller boy to walk inside, and slowly edge over to look down at his older brother, who was now sitting up and looking to him a bit worried.

Malik sighed after a few minutes of silence, Kadar staring at the floor, struggling to say anything. He stood and took his shoulder, leading him to the door and looking to Altair, who looked a little reluctant to have them leave, "I'm going to go talk to my brother. I'll see you later, okay?" the older assassin forced a smile and nodded his head, watching as they exited the door, and closed it behind them.

He led them down to a courtyard filled with different kinds of flowers and a patch of grass. They sat on a large rock, Kadar glancing at his brother, scared he was going to scold him and snap like their uncle and Tamir. When Malik simply smiled and looked up at the near cloudless sky, the younger brother furrowed his brows in confusion, wondering what he should say.

"I'm sorry... I didn't know you felt that way," Malik said softly, looking back down at the shocked Kadar, "I should have treated you more like a brother than just an assassin of lower rank..."

"Malik no, I'm the one that should be sorry," Kadar stood and looked down at him, looking like he was about to cry, "I was jealous about you... for every reason. You are smart, you are talented, and now you and Altair are together and I wish I could find that sort of love too..." Malik's brows furrowed, his mouth opening to question what he meant, but the younger continued, "That is why I have been so possessive over Tamir and Majid. I didn't want you taking their love too..."

"What... sort of love do you mean?"

"I see the way you look at him Mal, I may not be smarter than you, but I should know better than anyone you've never looked at someone with such eyes." Malik was speechless. Had he really been looking at Altair in such a way? Had the older man noticed? Was that why he kissed him a few years ago? He looked down, Kadar frowning at his brother's troubled silence, "Was I wrong?" he asked, staring down at him as he slowly shook his head and covered his face with his hands.

"I do not know, Kadar. I care for him as much as I care for you, Tamir, and Majid. You all are my family. Never did I question if there was anything more than that..."

"Maybe you should talk to Altair? Find out his views?"

The older brother nodded his head slightly, sitting up and looking to the younger once again, "You are not mad at me still, correct?" he asked, changing the subject, his face looking almost as grim as he was feeling.

"I may be still feeling jealous, but isn't that what brothers are suppose to do? Be jealous of each other and build their own strengths?" Kadar grinned, making Malik smile in return. "Though, I do have one request..."

Malik smiled knowingly, "I'll make time to teach you how to properly sword fight."

"Really?" The old bouncing Kadar was back, hopping very slightly in place as he stood up, looking down, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

"Of course."

After spending a few hours with each other, beginning to go over specific techniques that Malik had both learned from others and discovered himself. His brother all the while had this wide eyed look on his face that told how much fun he was having. The older brother could not sum it up in words of how relieved he was to have his younger brother back to normal. A glaring face was a terrible look for the younger, and he hoped to never see it ever again.

He headed up the stairs, heading back to his and Altair's room with one thing on his mind: How was he going to ask Altair about his views on love? It was easy to ask Tamir when he did, since he knew there was no way the other could hate him. Also, the fact that he suspected Tamir and Majid to be more than just friends gave him another reason for it to be easy. He paused in front of the door and stared at the handle. He gulped very slightly, then walked inside.

Altair was napping in his own bed, faced downward as he breathed deeply. The younger man couldn't help but smile at this and walk over, taking a piece of parchment that had his friend's horrible handwriting scrawled upon it. 'Malik, I need help finding any information about a man by the name of Isam Rasheef. I tried to find some earlier when you were out, but there was nothing. I'll explain later tonight.'

He raised his brows and looked down at his friend, shaking his head, "You tried? Why is it that I doubt that?" he questioned out loud, slipping the paper in his pocket and heading back out of the room, and down the stairs. He knew as well as anyone that Altair never looked at books for very long. He was a physical person, never a person to spend any one length of time on reading. Some times, Malik even questioned if he could read at all, but was reassured that he could when he would quote things that he had seen in scrolls and books.

It took about an hour before he even found a word of the man. He looked at the parchment several times during his search wondering if Altair had gotten the name wrong. When he found a scroll behind a stack of piled scrolls, he carefully opened it, and blinked.

'_Isam Rasheef was seen today. The traitor will be caught soon._'

It was the only thing written on the long paper, but it was the first sign that he had that the person ever existed. He rolled it back up, and held onto it, searching the scrolls around it, finding more smaller scrolls hidden behind the bigger. Each of the smaller scrolls were not very long, but each had something about the man, all calling him a traitor, and something about what he was or did do that day. Once he was sure he found all of the hidden scrolls on that one shelf, he began to unroll them, pressing each roll of parchment together and rolled them up to look like one scroll.

Tucking the scroll in his robes, he rushed out of the library, not really noticed by any of the other assassins as they walked about, conversing with others or searching for something of their own. The two guards at the entrance were talking with one another not lifting their gaze as the boy rushed to the dorms and up the stairs. He really hoped Altair could shed some light on who this man was, what he had done to be called a traitor, and why his friend was looking into the man.

He entered the room, and frowned not seeing his partner inside. He shook his head and sat on the floor, unrolling the parchment, and looking through each one, examining them for any small print or numbering. He leaned back against the wall and glared at the papers. What did they all mean? And where was Altair? He rubbed his chin and let out a defeated sigh. There was nothing more he could do with the papers, not until his friend was back.

Rolling up the scrolls he walked over to the small cabinet between their beds, opened it and placed them inside. He sat down on his bed and yawned, stretching upward, not realizing till then at how sore his arms were from all the sword practicing for the day. He lifted his gaze and blinked as Altair stumbled in the room, pressing his balled up left hand, close to his chest. He closed the door and staggered over to his bed, laying down and letting out a shaky sigh, his room mate staring at him, worried.

Malik could now see that there were bandages on the hand. He got up and walked over to him, the other grinning up at him foolishly. "What happened?"

"I was promoted... and given a new weapon," Altair said, his voice laced with the subtle sound of pain. "Only downside is I had to lose a finger," he half laughed and turned his head, staring up at the ceiling.

"Did you at least see the doctor?" Altair nodded his head, Malik sitting on the floor next to him. He supposed Isam Rasheef could wait, along with his prior question. Right now Altair needed rest. He stayed silent, watching him as he drifted off to sleep. When he was sure he was out cold, Malik scooted to sit on his knees and gazed down at his friend's face.

He knew it was sneaky and probably wrong to be stealing a moment like this while Altair was sleeping. But to be quite honest, he couldn't care less. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to the others, and staring down at his closed eyes, their noses almost touching.

"Maybe..." he whispered softly, "I do love you..."

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><p>Notes:<p>

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><p>I am honestly surprised at how fast this chapter was finished. I've been bombed with so many papers, and my math teacher must be a demon of some sorts because she keeps aggravating me by docking me points for really random stuff x.x; But I am pleased that I was able to fit this in between classes and homework.<p>

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><p>ALSO<p>

Go look at the fan art of Tamir, Majid and little Malik and Kadar Uccan did x3 It's amazing~

h ttp: / /uccan .deviant art. c om/ #/d4 qfaer (without spaces as usual)

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><p>Review Responses:<p>

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><p>I felt terrible the last few chapters not doing this like I did in Efflorescent Feelings. Even if I was just simply saying thank you, at least I was responding. So I am bringing this back~<p>

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><p><em><span>dippychick16<span>_: I'm glad you wouldn't mind religion, but I really feel I should avoid it all together. When someone is so passionate about their beliefs, the tiniest things could be found as offensive even if they were not meant that way and that is something I don't want to do at all. But thank you for letting me know :)

_BADAZZtoldya_: I hate her too D: You have no idea how loud I cheered when she died. As cruel as that sounds, I just can't stand her as a character at all. But~ Without her Altair would never have his children, so I guess her purpose is there =w=; Don't worry I'm not going to go to have much of an appearance of her other than a few mentions and very brief moments where she will show up, but nothing more than that.

Please review~ x3


	8. Chapter 8

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 8

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><p>It was nearly dinner time when Altair finally awoke. Malik was a little curious as to why his room mate was so tired today, but he could only imagine how badly it hurt to lose a finger, so he didn't make a comment of it. Instead, the younger boy pulled out the scrolled, laid them out for his drowsy friend, and headed out to retrieve some dinner for them. When he came back with two plates of... whatever it was, he was happy to see the other out of bed, crouched over the scrolls and studying them.<p>

"There's no particular order," Malik informed, handing him a plate and sitting down next to him, poking at the meaty-looking substance on his own plate. Altair gave a look at the plate he was given, knowing better than to ask what it was. The cooks weren't as terrible as to serve them food that was not edible, but it always looked as if it was going to come alive and eat them instead. "How's your hand?" he asked, changing the subject so that Altair could focus on something other than the random substances he was about to consume.

"It's a bit numb actually. The doctor said that it will be like that till it's healed over. Least it's stopped bleeding," he held up his hand slightly, it covered in browning bandages.

"Oh Altair, you're just like a kid. Come here," Malik stood, walking over to their side table and pulling out a roll of bandages. He sat back down and pointed to his knee, "Hand here," he ordered, the other man obeying, but looking away almost immediately.

The old bandages were a bit hard from all the blood, something Malik didn't exactly mind, but didn't find very calming either. Did the doctor really tell him that? He honestly wouldn't think that numb was a good thing at all, but then again Malik did not really know much aside from what he had read in scrolls. He lifted his hand and peered down at the wound. It was cleanly cut and properly cauterized for the most part.

He carefully held up his hand, and brought his lips down to kiss the top of what was left of the finger. Altair's eyes widened, his head shooting to look at his room mate in both confusion and slight horror. "What... are you doing?" he asked softly, making the other only grin and look up at him.

"Something my mother use to do when Kadar and I would come home with a scrape. She'd say she was kissing the wound to make it better," he simply grinned wider as Altair's eyes returned to their normal size, and trailed down to watch as he re bandaged his hand with the new cloth. "Can I ask you something personal?"

"You know you can..."

Malik slowly looked up into Altair's eyes, suddenly feeling nauseous. Why now was he getting cold feet? He wasn't going to tell Altair his feelings, simply ask a question. There was nothing wrong with that. The question was caught in his throat, how could he put it exactly so that his mouth would be able to form the words?

"Malik?" Altair blinked and looked at him curiously.

"What's your view on love?" he finally asked, knowing well that, that was not what he was trying to ask. It was so much more than that.

"Love? Well, I'm not sure to be honest. I've only had feelings for one person, and even then I'm not so sure it's love." Malik felt a pang in his heart. It confirmed only one thing: Altair didn't think of him anything more than just a friend. But then... what was that kiss a few years ago in this very room? "What's with the question anyway? Have you found a girl you fancy?"

Malik half laughed and nodded, looking down at the scrolls his eyes narrowing at them slightly, "Yeah," he nodded, "a girl."

Altair seemed to believe him, because he simply smiled and turned back to the scrolls, reaching off to the side to grab his bag of water. He attempted to uncork it with one hand, but was unsuccessful, trying again by holding onto it with his injured hand, and pulling at it with his right. The cork flung off, along with a splash of water, spilling onto the ground and onto the scrolls.

"Oh no!" Altair re-corked it and shoved it off to the side scrambling to get the paper out of the water. Malik reached out, taking one of the wet papers from Altair, and holding it up to the light from the window. The older boy stood as the other did, and followed him staring at the same mark at the bottom backside of the paper. "What does it say?"

Malik shook his head, "I think it's in English. Do you think maybe Isam Rasheef was working with the Christian Templars?" he looked back at Altair, who put his hand to his chin and nodded.

"My father was looking for Isam. They use to be partners until two years after my birth. According to what I've heard, he betrayed my father and spied on the assassins until he was caught snooping on a private meeting between a few master assassins. He fled, and my father had chased him for two years before receiving an order from Al Mualim to come home."

"So, why are we looking into him when your father couldn't catch him for two years?" Malik asked after a moment of silence that followed the explanation.

"I've been assigned to capture him and bring him to Masyaf for judgment. Since you are my partner it also means that you are to come as well."

"I'm guessing we have no leads as to where he is, or if he's even alive?"

"None what so ever."

Malik looked down at the drying scrolls and bit at his thumb. Why would Al Mualim entrust them with such a task without any leads at all? Perhaps it was a sort of test. At any rate, the scrolls he discovered had not been touched in years. The fact that he had found them at all was pushing them in the right direction at least a little bit. He smiled, and set the scroll he was holding down with the others and stood upright.

"I'll go to the library and see if I can find anything that can help us translate English. We've found this much already, perhaps we are onto something that will help us know where to move next?"

Altair smiled back and nodded his head, "I am glad you are my partner Malik. I don't think anyone else would be as helpful as you."

Grinning to himself, Malik walked out of the room and into the hallway, closing the door behind him. A compliment from Altair meant the world to him. He stopped halfway down the hall, placing his hand to his chest as he looked down. Why was this so hard? All these years he had been friends with his room mate. Why now was his stomach twisting, or his heart jolting?

Glancing upward he blinked, staring up at his smiling uncle who had his arms crossed over his chest, looking rather smug as if he caught Malik doing something terribly wrong. The man let his arms drop and walked to his side, leaning back against the same wall, turning his head to look down at him, "It's Altair, isn't it?"

"What?" Malik's eyes widened as he gaped up at him, suddenly terrified at his calm expression.

"You only sigh and look like that when your in love. Only person I could think of is Altair."

"He has feelings for someone else..." Malik looked down at the wood floor, his brows furrowing together, his eyes drooping slightly.

"He told you this?"

"He said that he only has had feelings for a person once. It was past tense."

"Was it?"

Malik slowly let his eyes trail back up to meet his uncles. Was it? He didn't even know himself. He clutched the front of his robes, his face grimacing as he shook his head, "My heart hurts Majid..."

Majid's smile dropped, his expression changing to pity. He had never seen an expression quite like this on his features, always either happy or serious. He'd seen him mad before once, but never anything like this. "I'll be back, you wait here, alright?"

Malik nodded slightly, watching as he walked down the hall towards his room. He wanted desperately to follow him, but he knew his uncle wanted him to stay put, so he did. As he entered the room, he smiled back at Malik and closed the door behind him. He stepped forward surveying the room, raising a brow as Altair scurried to collect the scattered papers.

"I did not realize you were such a messy person, Altair," he joked, smiling to show he was only kidding. He walked over to Malik's bed and began to search through it, as if looking for something.

"Can I... help you find something, sir?" the boy asked, politely, shoving the papers inside the side table and standing up straight.

"Malik asked me to get his favorite quill, do you know where it might be?"

"Favorite quill? I did not know he had a one," Altair raised a brow, an almost troubled expression on his face from not knowing this information.

"You should tell him, you know..." Majid smirked lightly as he picked up a quill from inside the side table. "But who am I to tell anyone what to do. Just don't regret it if you lose him," he turned his back on the now confused teenager, who gawked, his mouth opened slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn't.

As soon as his uncle emerged from the room, he walked over to Malik, a spring in his step and looking rather pleased. He took his nephew's hand, placed the quill in it and smiled down at him as he looked up suspiciously, "Isn't there somewhere you were going?" he nearly sang, smiling even wider as the boy nodded his head, turned, and walked back down the hall, to the stairs and down them.

What exactly did his uncle do? Did he say anything? Malik's brows furrowed together in frustration of what happened. He knew he should have followed him, but why didn't he? He shook his head and sighed, clearing his mind as he exited the dorm building. He had a job to do, there was no time for thinking as such. Altair was depending on him, which meant he couldn't afford to get distracted now. He nodded to himself, and marched to the library, task in mind.

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><p>Malik stumbled back to the room after being shooed out of the library. It was nearly midnight, and he had not found a single scroll that contained any translations that could help him translate what the back of the scrolls said. He yawned, tripping a few times as he made his way up the stairs and down the hall to his room. He entered, and smiled almost grimly as he saw Altair sleeping in his own bed. He half-hoped the other would be awake, or even sleeping in his bed. He shrugged and stripped himself of his day clothing, and putting on his sleeping clothes, climbing into bed and sighing contently as his head hit the cushion.<p>

It was nearly an hour later, when Malik first heard a sound. It was muffled, and sounded a bit strange, so he kept to himself, staring at the wall he was facing, focusing on whatever it was that he heard. He heard a shuffling sound, causing him to get overly curious and roll over quietly, squinting his eyes in case Altair caught him spying. His back was turned to him, but he was most definitely awake, his arm moving as soft whispering moans came from his direction.

He gulped and closed his eyes almost immediately, realizing exactly what his room mate was doing. Embarrassed, he rolled back over, not bothering to do it slowly, the moaning stopping as soon as he did. The smaller boy bit his lip and kept his eyes shut tight, praying that the other was not going to walk over and check on him.

"Malik? Are you... awake?" the older teen asked, sitting up slightly to look over at him. When he did not answer, he heard Altair heave a soft sigh of relief, laying back down and continuing his actions. After a few more minutes, Altair was up once again, walking to the door and leaving.

Malik sat up and rubbed his face, looking over to the other's bed and blushing bright red as he imagined exactly what was happening. He shook his head hard and laid back down, pressing himself close to the wall and clearing his mind, focusing on a speck he could see even in the dark. He rolled on his back, turning his head to look back at the speck only moments later, only to have to shut his eyes as he heard the door open. '_This isn't good_,' he panicked knowing fully well if Altair looked his way he'd see a tent in his blankets.

He gulped softly as he felt his blanket's stirring slightly, the other getting in bed with him, laying down facing him. What was he going to do now? Altair was in bed with him, while blood was forcing its way downward, making his situation both awkward, and uncomfortable. He let out a fake groan, that came out more like a moan than anything else, and rolled back onto his side, his back facing the other. Just when he thought he was safe, he felt the other scoot forward, wrapping his arms around his middle and resting his head against his back, between his shoulder blades.

Malik couldn't move or say anything. If he did he'd know he was awake the whole time. He bit his lip and looked down at his hands that were pressed against his stomach, almost possessively. Had Altair made a habit of doing this when they were sleeping in the same bed? He slowly lifted his left hand, resting it on the top of the other's hand, smiling very softly as the other clutched his hand. '_At least I can have this moment with him..._' he thought, allowing his eyes to close ignoring his problem downstairs and relaxing, focusing on the feeling of Altair's calloused hand holding his.

He wasn't going to lie to himself. He loved this man, and it pained his heart to think that he could never have him anymore than this. Altair was probably just feeling lonely without the one he loved, and in his state took to holding the first person who was near: Malik. His mind went blank as he felt himself being pulled into sleep. Before his mind was completely gone, he could have sworn he heard a soft whisper in his ear. What did it say? He tried to force himself to focus on what was said, but his mind was to far gone. His dreams had engulfed him.

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><p>The Rafiq was coming close to Masyaf. The dreaded moment was coming at last. He gazed down below from a peak on a mountain at the town that was still a few miles away. How many years had it been that he looked down at the city? He smiled down as his horse huffed, wanting to keep moving or for Malik to just get off of him. He rubbed it's side slightly, then urged it forward, biting his lip. What would he say first to Altair? Would he congratulate him? Would he hit him? He liked the second one best, but decided to keep that till they were alone. Altair may be a dumb ass, but he was also a master assassin; people looked up to him.<p>

After a few hours, he stopped his horse at the stables, being greeted by a novice assassin about the age of fifteen, who took his horse and led it over to hay and water. He began his trek up to the castle, smiling at a few assassins who stopped to greet him, or waved. He blinked as he heard a thump and footsteps behind him. Rolling his eyes he turned around looking up at the smiling face of his friend. "You sent for me?" his voice came out a bit colder than intended.

"Malik.. Don't be like that," Altair frowned, looking down at him sadly.

"Be like what? I don't know what you're talking about, Novice."

"Back to the nickname again..." Altair rubbed the back of his head, letting out a sigh as he stepped past him, "Follow me I suppose."

Malik followed him, staring down at his feet as he avoided looking anywhere else. "Congratulations... on Maria being pregnant..."

"Thank you, though you do not sound so sincere."

"Can't imagine why..."

Altair turned and stared at him, his brows together in a worried expression. "What did I do now, Malik? Why are you acting this way?"

"Because_ Altair_, I was under the impression that I was the one in your life, not the whore out back who awaits till my master is done with his mistress," Malik clenched his fist slightly as he looked away, Altair's face full of shock.

"You're the one who told me to find a wife and have children! I didn't want this, if you recall I stated I wanted to be yours for the rest of my days!"

Malik blanched and glared at Altair from the corner of his eye, "I thought you had enough sense to decipher between angry words during an screaming match than the truth."

Altair was silent. He glared down at Malik, while Malik glared up at him. They stood there, ignoring the passerby-er's who peered at them interested as they simply stood not saying anything. Altair sighed in defeat and looked off to the side, gesturing to a novice who rushed over. "Take Malik to his room, please" he said softly, leaving at once, the boy leading the Rafiq to a building he had not entered in years.

He almost smiled as he was led up the stairs of the dorm building, and wasn't surprised to see they entered the very hall Malik and Altair lived in. He was, however, a little surprised when he was led to the actual room they stayed in. He thanked the boy, and walked in, tearing up as he closed the door behind him. The room was exactly how they left it. He let out a shaky sigh and walked over to his bed, sitting down in it and smiling.

"Stupid Novice..." he whispered, placing his hand on his heart, "If you went through all this trouble why...?" he frowned and opened his eyes, leaning down and pulling out some of his things, placing them on the side table. He held the book he had been writing in and sighed, placing it on the very edge closest to his bed. He laid back, resting his head against a cushion and hugged his arm to himself. He hadn't realized in all these years how much he missed this small room.

Grinning to himself, Malik allowed himself to fall asleep, dreaming of so many memories in this very room. Ignoring all the pain and annoyance he was feeling towards the man he loved.

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><p>Notes:<p>

Alty is naughty =w=; and poor older Malik =[ he feels so betrayed.

Hope you like it, please review and let me know what you think, how you are feeling about this chapter, or even just how you're doing lol. I love to hear from people :)

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><p>Review Responses:<p>

BADAZZtoldya: Ty kindly ^^

dippychick16: Kadar isn't the only one who realizes, for sure. Just seems like the one person who really needs to know doesn't notice his glances, and all the hints xD *cough * Altair *cough *


	9. Chapter 9

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 9

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><p>Malik awoke with a jolt, the sound of knocking heard on the door. He looked around the room, as if in a trance, and smiled grimly. 'So this all wasn't a dream. I'm really here,' he thought, standing up and walking to the door. He opened it, frowning as soon as his eyes laid on the woman in front of him, "Hello Maria," he said softly, standing aside, holding the door open for her, "Care to come in?"<p>

The woman nodded, walking inside, her hands over her front almost as if she thought Malik was going to strike the baby growing inside her. He wanted to be nice, really he did, but he couldn't manage a smile as he looked upon the woman that was married to the man he loved.

"Altair... told me the truth."

"And what truth might that be?"

"That you two... aren't simply just friends."

"And apparently you aren't either."

Maria's brows twitched slightly as she struggled with the emotions that were inside her. The Rafiq suddenly felt a tinge of regret for the tone of his voice, and bit his lip as he looked off to the side. The silence was anything but golden, and was rather awkward. Both of them stood, looking anywhere but at the other, wondering what they could possibly say next.

"What..." Malik started, slowly looking up to her, making eye contact. "What exactly did you seek to do by coming here?"

"To be honest I didn't have any task... Well, I simply wanted to know where you stood on the matter..."

"Are you looking for a confession? That I love that imbecile that you married?" Malik's tongue was sharper than his gaze, his eyes struggling to hide back a sudden wave of tears that threatened to pour.

"Do you?"

Malik looked horrified. How could she ask such a thing? He honestly didn't know whether he would lie, or tell the truth. His frown deepened as he looked out the window, "What does it matter anyway? He's yours."

"His body may be mine, but you've always held his heart. As much as I'd like to be able to, I cannot compete with that."

Malik's eyes shot to her once again. She was smiling grimly, her hand on her slightly bulging stomach. How could she stand there with his child in her womb and smile at the man that her husband really loved? He just didn't understand it. She let out a soft sigh and shook her head lightly, "Maybe you should talk to him. Really talk to him. Find out where he stands. Whatever the case is, I will stand behind you both. I respect you Malik, and I can assure you I will not be angry with whatever happens in the future."

With that, the woman was gone. He stared at the door, not fully understanding what exactly had just happened, or what all she had said. Was it real? He lifted his hand and bit at his thumb, glaring at the floor as if that was going to do any good. He sighed louder than he intended, walking over to his bed and sat down, glancing over at the book on the side table. He rolled his eyes, reaching out and taking the book, pulling out a quill and ink, once again finding himself wanting to write.

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><p>Malik sat Indian style in a chair, a scroll unrolled in his lap, and his eyes drifting back and forth as his friend paced in front of him.<p>

"It has to be Jerusalem. What other holy cities are near by?" He paused and looked at the younger boy and shook his head as he opened his mouth, "If there are any, I stand corrected, but seriously Malik, think about it. This paper states," he reached out and grabbed one of the scrolls and opened it, taking the paper they rolled inside with the translation of what the hidden message stated, " 'He was sent to the holiest of cities disguised as a beggar woman.' Holiest of cities Mal."

Malik simply grinned and nodded his head. He loved watching Altair when he got worked up, the young man was relentlessly passionate when it came to something he believed in. "It's been years though, Altair. It is possible that by this time he had died, or grown tired of dressing as a woman. For all we know the man could be in another city by now." He tilted his head to the side and rolled the scroll in his hands back up.

"It doesn't hurt to go look though," he argued, crossing his arms.

"You just want to leave the castle and go on a trip." Altair's eyes shifted to the side, his lower lip pouting slightly indicating that Malik was correct. He smiled wide, and stood, walking over to a shelf and placing the scroll on top of a stack of others. "But, you are right. It doesn't hurt to check. Perhaps we should ask around, see if anyone knows what the man last looked like?"

"You could ask Tamir and Majid, they've been around a while."

The younger assassin blinked and looked back to his friend, who seemed a bit conflicted, with his troubled expression. Any time Majid was mentioned, or thought of that look graced his features. Ever since that day a week ago when his uncle had gone in his room. He had been avoiding asking what exactly he had done, or said, but at this point he knew he had to ask.

"What exactly happened with you and Majid?"

"What do you mean?" Altair's eyes shot up, widening as he looked at Malik.

"Ever since my uncle went into my room to retrieve my quill you've been acting a bit odd. Any time I mention his name, or any time you do you get this look on your face."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Malik's brows furrowed. Of course he didn't. Rolling his eyes, he walked back over to the table they were occupying and started to gather the scrolls. "Just, go tell Al Mualim that we will be departing for Jerusalem to follow a lead. I'll go ask them."

Leaving his friend to his task, he headed up to their room to put away the scrolls. Majid and Tamir wouldn't have their duties for a few hours, so there was only two places that they could be, one being more likely than the other. He decided to check the tower first, climbing up to the top, and frowning when he did not see them. That only left their room. He walked down the stairs faster than he came up, and walked back to the dorm halls, half wondering why he didn't check there first since it was closer, but shrugging it off as he passed into the hall where most of the master assassins slept.

It looked no different from the other halls, but Malik knew better than that. The rooms were twice the size of the other assassin's, four times the size of a novice's closet-sized room. He walked to the door of their room, and knocked lightly. There was a soft "come in" that came from behind the door, prompting Malik to enter and close the door behind him.

He turned to blink, looking to the two assassin's, Tamir asleep, his head on Majid's shoulder, and his uncle sitting, reading a scroll, with two others sitting in front of him waiting to be read next. "Altair and I are heading to Jerusalem soon," he stated, stepping closer, whispering so not to wake the sleeping master.

"No need to whisper, Tamir is the heaviest sleeper I know. So, I assume you have a question? Normally you don't have a habit of announcing where you are off to."

The teen nodded his head, shooting straight to the question: "Do you have any idea what Isam Rasheef looks like?"

Majid's nose wrinkled, a disgusted look spread on his face. It reminded him of something that tasted fowl, and could imagine his uncle making that face upon eating something disgusting. "You know what Ahmad Sofian looked like, correct?" Malik nodded, "Well, picture him, with short brown hair, a thicker nose, thicker brows, and abnormally tall. The two were distant cousins, but nothing alike. Why do you ask?"

"Al Mualim has placed the task of hunting him down to Altair and I."

Majid rose his brows slightly, Tamir groaning and sitting up, rubbing his eye as he looked up at Malik groggily. "If you're going after that spineless swine then I am coming too. No offence meant to you or Altair, but that man was a master assassin with far more training than you both. He could take you both down no matter who's sons you are."

Majid chuckled lightly and shook his head, "I thought you were asleep?"

"Who could sleep with that name being mentioned in the room?" he growled in response.

Malik was confused. He knew the man was a traitor, but even a traitor got more respect than this. What exactly did he do? Was it all more than what him and Altair knew and was told? As if sensing Malik's questions, Tamir sighed and stood up stretching upward.

"That man is possibly one of the worse people I have ever crossed paths with. I'm sure you heard of his spying? It's all more than just that. He used the assassin name to commit wrong, and smear our good name all over the floor. He stole, cheated, killed. He broke all three tenants almost once a week, if not more. I want to see the end of that man's life."

The teen was astonished. Calm, well collected and kind Tamir was so angry. It was a shock to see him with a loss of composure let alone voicing out his will for the end of a life. He looked to Majid, who walked over and placed his hand on Tamir's arm, causing the blonde to look at him and relax slightly.

"This is a job for Malik and Altair, not us. They will report to the Rafiq stationed in Jerusalem, and it will be his job to help capture the man, not ours," he said calmly, the only slowly nodding in realization. "They will do fine, they've been taught well. They will use their heads."

Malik smiled at the confidence that his uncle had in them. It was a calming and warming feeling that Majid had faith in their abilities. He blinked as he saw his uncle gesture for him to come over. He walked over curiously, and was pulled into a hug, his uncle chuckling. "You won't be back till after your birthday. Sixteen is a big number. You're a man now, and I know that you with the help of your partner, can catch Isam."

He felt a hand on his shoulder, looking up at Tamir, who smiled and nodded in his agreement. He pulled back, and said his thanks to them, rushing out and heading to their room. He had the description of the man, and now the confidence that they were going to find and catch him. He walked into their room and smiled at his friend, who was packing a small sack of things, looking brighter than ever.

"Al Mualim sent the message to the Rafiq in Jerusalem that we are coming. Did you find out anything?" he asked, standing and looking to him, hopeful.

"Yeah, a bit more than intended. I'll pack a few things and we can head out."

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><p>Malik and Altair made it to the peak of the path on the mountain by midday. The older of the two was all to happy about leaving, but the fact that he couldn't find Kadar to say goodbye troubled the younger teen. Al Mualim told Altair that they are to be living with the Rafiq for a while, that it wasn't going to be a night and day task. It was possible that it could take a very long time.<p>

Sulking in his own way, Malik did not notice the eyes of his friend, peering at him in curiosity. Nor did he expect the sheath of a blade to swing out and stop in front of his nose. He stared at it a moment, before Altair chuckled, flipping it over, the handle held out for him. "Take it," he told him, Malik taking the blade and marveling at how light it was. "I had it made for you. I know your birthday is still a week away, but who knows. You might need it now."

He stopped his horse a moment, running his fingers along the handle. It was carved out of wood, but very sturdy. He pulled the blade out and scanned it with his brown orbs, only stopping to look at the other, who grinned sheepishly. "It's beautiful. Thank you Altair," he put the blade back in it's sheath.

"I helped make it some too. The blacksmith allowed me to when I told him it was for someone special."

Malik was speechless. He was never given anything so wonderful, nor so personal. His heart felt like it was going to split in two. He hopped off his horse, and reached up, making the other teen lean forward as he hugged him. "It's wonderful," he whispered, pulling back and allowing the other to sit back upright and smile down at him happily. "This is the best thing anyone has ever given me," he made his way back on his horse and grinned down at the blade as he fastened it to his side.

"I'm really happy that you like it, Malik. I was worried that you'd just see it as another blade given by a higher up..."

"How could I see it that way? You helped make it. It's beautiful." He knew he was repeating himself, but he couldn't help it. The other knew he was good with swords, and went out of his way to make something he knew he'd treasure.

"Well, we should get moving," Altair stated, still smiling wide, pleased at how much his friend liked the gift. Malik nodded his head in agreement, smiling wide as he followed the older teen down the path.

He couldn't keep it to himself for much longer. He knew he had to tell Altair the truth, that he loved him. To much emotion was going through Malik, and he knew it was only a matter of time that he was going to pour out. He had to take control and tell him in his own way. He lifted his hand, biting at his thumb as he stared down at the reigns in his hand. How was he going to do this?

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>ASSASSINS CREED 3~~~~ I'm not freaking out... I swear _; No really I am. I woke up this morning to see a lovely facebook update from Ubisoft with the cover art and I screamed x.x; Anyone else just extremely excited?<p>

On another note! How did you like the chapter? I updated a lot faster than normal due to the fact that I wanted to get two or three chapters in before I leave to an internet-less wasteland for almost two weeks x.x; Will be fun, but I wont have any way to get anything out except through cell phone.

Also, I know this chapter was shorter than normal, but that's only because I intend to put up the next chapter within a few days or so. So it will make up for it, D: 3 chapters in a week time? I think so at least xD

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><span>Uccan:<span> I'm very happy that you liked it :) Sometimes I question if me telling a story within a story is a good idea, but so far it's turning out well. So in all I am very pleased :D

Rindou Kiara: I'm glad you think so, I'm sorry that Malik's situation is making you sad, though I can promise you that it will be better soon!

Dippychick16: xD I love Majid, always has to have his word on things. If not for him, Malik would probably be in it worse than he is now, wallowing in self pity and driving himself mad xD

BADAZZtoldya: Don't worry xD Malik won't kill Altair, I promise~


	10. Chapter 10

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 10

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><p>Two days into the trek to Jerusalem, the two sat in a small wooded area. Altair begged Malik to allow them to stay the day and overnight, leaving in the morning. Malik only caved in when his room mate wanted to give the horses a break. He'd never admit it out loud, but he had a soft spot for most horses, and since the other used it against him he assumed he had found out somehow. He patted his horse's side, watching his friend from the corner of his eye as he scrambled around making a fire.<p>

"I'm assuming this is one of the stop offs that the assassins set up?" Malik asked, just wanting to break off the silence.

"Yeah, looks like this ones been abandoned or the Rafiq in Jerusalem has had his hands full with other things. There's barely any fresh hay left, and the wood pile is almost out," he plopped on the ground, leaning back against a log and sighing, "I'd cut more, but I didn't bring an ax, did you?"

"I did not anticipate staying in one spot for a day," Malik stated, walking over to the fire and sitting down. His eyes shot from the fire to Altair, who leaned back, stretching his back to crack it against the log. Upon doing so he sighed happily and stood up swinging his arms around as he looked about the camp. He seemed a bit antsy as he moved about, but the younger teen knew his partner all too well, and knew he was happy with the spot they were in.

"Hey Mal, look," he pointed at a trunk of a tree, making the other raise his brows and get up peering down at the spot he was pointing. "Tamir and Majid stayed here too."

Malik gazed at the two's names etched in the wood and lightly smiled. It brought back all the tales that they told him and his brother, all the happy memories and good times that they must have had in the past. He looked to Altair who smiled and pulled out a small throwing knife, getting on a knee and began to carve into the tree underneath their names. When he was finished, he stood and smiled wider, looking to Malik as he read their names now etched into it as well.

"They're best friends, partners, and excellent assassins. I hope we'll be like them someday," Altair stated, turning around and walking back over to the fire and sitting in his spot by the log.

Malik frowned lightly and nodded his head, placing a hand on his chest, "I hope we will be too," he said softly, knowing just how much deeper their relationship was than what was shown on the outside. He rubbed his hands together slightly, the cool air of the day time was starting to get to him. Winter was approaching quickly, something he wasn't looking forward to in the slightest. He hated being cold, and although snow was pretty to look at, especially in the morning, he hated being in it. Turning and walking back over to his spot, he sat down and hugged himself, trying to keep his hands warm under his arms.

Altair frowned at the sight of his friend being cold, and got up on his hands and knees, crawling to Malik's side, and laying down, his head laying against his partner's lap. He reached up and held his hands in his own making the younger teen sigh in content at the warmth of his bigger hands. "Better?" the younger nodded and looked down. It would be so easy to just lean down and kiss him. Should he do it? He knew he shouldn't, but the more the idea wormed around in his mind, the more he leaned down until their lips met.

Both of the boy's eyes widened slightly, before Altair's arm reached up to place his hand behind Malik's head and leaned up deepening the kiss. The younger opened his mouth slightly to voice out something, but was cut off by the other's tongue, which dove in and rubbed against Malik's making him groan softly.

He was a little lost at what to do. Malik had only kissed once before, and that was with the same man as now. He wasn't sure about Altair, but the more he explored his mouth, the more he decided to not bother asking who he practiced on before. They pulled back reluctantly, panting lightly as they stared into each other's eyes. "What... about the woman you love?" Altair asked after a moment of silent staring.

Malik didn't know how to answer that. He simply stared down at him, then looked away, his cheeks turning a light pink color, "You're... the woman..." An odd choice of words, but as he looked at Altair from the corner of his eye, he knew he got the meaning behind them. Altair sat up, and stared at him. He sat down, sitting upright and gawked, not really knowing what to say. The silence was scaring Malik. Did he hate him? Was the kiss just an instinct on his friend's part? Was he going to tell them that they couldn't do that again, or tell him they couldn't be friends anymore? "Please," the younger boy begged, "Say something..."

"I don't know what to say," he admitted, looking down at his hands in his lap, "I'm beginning to think I never woke up this morning. That this is just another dream I'm having. That you are going to be shaking me awake at any moment and tell me that we have to move on. You see..." he was struggling with his words, the first time Malik had ever seen the other so scared, and lacking in confidence, "I've loved you for a long time now. I didn't start sleeping in your bed just for the warmth, or because I was lonely... I did it because I thought it was the only way I could be close to you without risk of being pushed away."

"Another dream?" Malik asked softly, making Altair half laugh.

"That's all you got out of that?" the other asked, smiling almost grimly.

"No I... Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I'm human too, Mal... I get scared sometimes, even if I don't always show it."

"Kadar and Majid have been after me," he started after a moment of silence, "Telling me I should tell you my feelings. I just didn't want to lose you... I tried to tell you once before, when I asked you about love... I also thought about telling you a few days ago until I heard you masturbating-"

"You heard that?" Altair gasped, his eyes widening, "I thought you were asleep!"

Malik grinned and nodded his head, smiling wider as he watched his friend turn red and look away. "I didn't see anything, your back was turned away anyway."

"If you were awake you should have heard me after, when I was in your bed."

"Huh?" Malik blinked and raised a brow. He thought he heard something, but he couldn't make it out. He was sure that whatever he heard was all in his head since he was half asleep and half awake. "I thought I heard something... but I couldn't make it out. Your arms were around me, I didn't know what to do."

"I told you I loved you," Altair whispered softly, so soft that Malik almost missed it for the second time.

Malik gulped and looked down, his cheeks turning pink once again. It wasn't one sided. This wasn't a dream, and he was at a loss of what to do. He grinned slightly and looked up, the other smiling when he noticed the grin on his lips. It was silent after that, but nothing more needed to be said. The younger teen wished he had enough courage to tell Altair he loved him back, but knew his feelings were shown as he reached out and held his hand.

That night the two slept in each other's arms, Malik's face pressed against Altair's chest, and Altair's chin resting on top of Malik's head. Now that they didn't have to fear about what each other would think about their feelings, the only thing they really had to worry about was keeping it a secret.

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><p>Malik glanced upward as Altair entered the room. He didn't look to happy to see him, but since Malik had just been writing about their love confession, his heart ached and pained for the other. The master assassin's look softened as he noticed the pained look on his love's face. He sighed shaking his head and closing his eyes, "What have I done, Mal?" he whispered. "I broke your heart not once, but twice... You must think I'm a monster..."<p>

"You are a monster," Malik stated, narrowing his eyes and frowning, "You should feel terrible." He lightly smiled and stood up, rubbing the back of his head, "Is that what you are looking for me to say?"

"Anything. Say whatever you like. I can handle it."

"You're a git. A stupid, self-centered imbecile who needs to learn when someone is just angry and when they mean something," he turned and picked up the book and shoved it at him, "Ever since we parted I have been writing in it. Read the last page," he ordered.

Altair stared at the cover of the book he had given him many years ago. He grinned at it for a moment, then opened it, flipping it to the last page with writing in it. His eyes drifted back and forth as he read the page, then slowly looked up at him, "It's us.."

"And I'm not done yet. There's a lot more to write about," he snatched it back and pointed the edge of the book at him, "I'm not forgiving you just yet, but just know I may hate you more, but I'll never love you less," he stated, lowering his arm and placing the book on the table.

Altair looked dumbstruck, staring at him in a mix of confusion and horror. "Do you still... want me?" he asked, softly. Malik raised a brow looking to him, not answering, "What I mean is, when you forgive me, if you do, will you still want to be with me?"

"You're an idiot for asking that. You should know the answer."

Altair shook his head, "I want you to say it."

"When I forgive you, I do want to be with you. It hurts to be away from you, no matter how annoying your actions are," He narrowed his eyes slightly, "Does this answer satisfy you?" Altair nodded, "Good, now figure out what your next move is and leave me to think," he ordered.

Altair stared at him a moment, then nodded his head, leaving the room. Malik simply smiled as soon as the door closed and let out a soft sigh, shaking his head. Why did he feel like a teenager again? His heart pounded in his chest, to the point where he knew that it could be heard. He sat back on the bed, and glanced out the window. '_Stupid Novice... All he has to do is look at me and I melt_,' he thought, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

He glanced to the side and took the book in his hand, placing it on his knee and opening it. He stared at where he left off, grabbed his quill and began to write again.

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><p>They arrived in Jerusalem at nightfall. The Rafiq was not exactly happy with them, questioning why they arrived a day later than Al Mualim had stated, and grew angry with their fake story that they had to go around a group of Templars to avoid being caught by them. The man seemed to be so angry with them that he threw a key at them and told them to sleep in the stables and out of his sight. This, however, wasn't exactly a punishment. They'd rather had been alone anyway. They crawled into the empty stable outside of the city and laid next to each other, quiet and simply enjoying each other's company.<p>

"The look on his face was pretty funny," Altair stated, breaking the silence. He wasn't exactly sure if Malik was awake or not and rolled over, leaning his head against his arm. "Malik, can I ask you something?" he asked, softly.

"Mhm," Malik rolled over and looked at him, squinting slightly so he could see his room mate in the dark.

"What are we? Lovers? Still friends? What?"

Malik smiled, "I think to have the title of lovers we'd need to do an unthinkable act," he stated, looking off to the side as Altair blinked. "So I suppose... Together would simply do until then."

"Unthinkable act?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Sex, Altair."

"Oh...right," he blushed as he suddenly grew shy of the mere mention of it. "Have you ever... masturbated like I had?"

"Of course."

"Wha? When?"

"I'm not so stupid as to do something in the room with my room mate."

"Hey... I thought you were asleep."

Malik smiled and leaned forward, kissing his forehead, "Yes, well. Maybe we should sleep now, since we will need to wake up and see our new friend the Rafiq, hmm?"

"He'll be happy to see us, you'll see," Altair scooted forward, pressing his lips to Malik's. It was a short kiss, but it left Malik feeling a bit frustrated. The older teen sensed this and chuckled, taking his hand in his and kissing his fingers, "Night Malik."

"Goodnight Altair."

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><p>Morning came quicker than the two would have liked. Altair groaned, rolling over so his back was facing the window, which was wide open the sun coming in and shining in their eyes. Malik chuckled at the sight, and reached out taking both of his hands, and standing up, having to pull him up as well. "Come on, lazy bum," Malik said, letting go of his room mate's hands and heading out of the stables.<p>

He had to admit, although winter was coming, Jerusalem was a great sight. It was so lively, the way a city should be. If he would ever have to chose a permanent home, he didn't doubt that this would be one of his choices. He looked back at Altair and smiled as he exited, stretching and pulling his hood up for a bit of shade from the sun. "I feel like we slept on a pile of rocks all night," he complained.

Malik shook his head and started in the direction of the city. He knew that the Rafiq wasn't going to be very pleased with seeing them. He looked about and smiled, walking over to a man selling fruit. He looked through them and picked up two pears, and paid the vendor the money for them, and walked to the gates.

"What's the fruit for?" Altair asked, walking to his side, peering at him curiously from under his hood.

"An apology gift for arriving late," Malik explained, flashing the taller teen a smile and entered the city.

Stalking the streets and heading to the bureau during the peak of morning was a very beholding sight. People laughed, smiled, and seemed to be enjoying each others company as they discussed their early morning gossip. The two grinned at each other as two boys ran across their paths one calling after the other to wait for him.

"Do you ever wish life turned out differently?" Malik questioned as they headed down an alleyway and to a ladder.

"Hm, I suppose. But how could you wish for something you know nothing of? This is the only life I've known, but from what I've seen I do grow envious of how easily normal people can make friends." Altair smirked as he headed up the ladder after Malik, "But honestly, I like the friend I have now. He may be a bit of a brat, but I can't complain."

The younger boy stood over the ladder and scoffed, "Are you sure you aren't talking about yourself, now?" he questioned, raising a brow as the other peered up at him.

"No, no. I'm positive that you're the brat in this relationship. So spoiled to have me, the soon to be greatest assassin of all time, as a best friend and soon to be lover," he stated arrogantly, smiling wider at the dumbfounded look on his room mate's face. "Nearly there Mal, keep up," he hopped from one building to the other with ease, looking back at the other, who only rolled his eyes and followed.

As they hopped down into the bureau they noticed an eerie silence from inside. "Hello? Rafiq?" Altair called out, turning around the corner and skidding to a halt. Malik blinked, following him and smiling along with the other as they peered at the sleeping man. "It would seem that the stables should have been for him. Maybe he would have slept better there?"

Malik nodded and walked over to the pile of cushions, sitting down and leaning back against the wall, pulling his sword to his lap and rubbing it's hilt with a cloth. Altair smiled at this sight, walking over to his side and sitting down, reaching into Malik's pocket and pulling out one of the pears, as the other gave him a disapproving look, he simply smiled innocently, "He's asleep. Why does he need these delicious fruits for breakfast? You sleep, you lose out."

The younger of the two rolled his eyes and pulled out the other as the other assassin bit into his fruit. "I suppose you are right," he grumbled, biting into his own and grinning at the sweet taste that invaded his mouth. He missed these sort of treats. It was possibly the only thing he missed from the streets. After finishing their pears, the two took to talking softly, or just sitting in silence, staring up at the clouds overhead as they waited for the Rafiq to wake. The two were a little anxious to be doing such a mission, and could both honestly admit they wanted to start sooner rather then later...

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>Made the chapter longer than the last as an apology for the lack of length D: Like I mentioned before, I'll most likely not have internet access for about 2 weeks. I will, however, be working on the next chapter and possibly the one after it if time is good to me, or my computer doesn't explode like it's been threatening to do... heh.<p>

On a final final note, since I have until Tuesday (March 5th, 2012) to finish this project... What animal do you all think suits as a good representation of Malik? As few of you know, I have been planning out a project of designing my own Assassins Creed Shoes. I've already got the sketch down on one shoe, and half of the other, but I'm debating between a mass amount of animals that suit Malik. Please if you could let me know what animal you think would be a good representation of him it would help tremendously!

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and are happy that the two nincompoops finally confessed xD

Please review~ x3

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Uccan<span>_: I've been told that I have a habit of building up tension a little to well Dx Hopefully their confession was just what you needed :D

_BADAZZtoldya_: xD! I'm just happy you are able to say "awww" in any way at all. It makes me happy :)

_dippychick16_: I felt a bit sorry for her myself, and even so I'm not very fond of her. Alty really is a villian, but also he is a bit oblivious to what he does wrong and right, so I suppose that has something to do with it. We will find out why Altair went with Maria in the first place, but later on when Malik gets to that point in the journal.


	11. Chapter 11

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 11

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><p>It had been nearly two hours before Malik grew fed up with waiting. Asleep or not, they had a task, and had no time for waiting on the man who was not seeming to wake up any time soon. He edged over to the front and peered down at him. If he would have a guess, he would have guessed the man was dead. Shaking off the nervous feeling that overcame him, he stepped forward and lightly shook his shoulder. The man awoke with a jolt, his eyes widen and seemingly scared.<p>

Once reality hit him, his eyes narrowed, "Stupid child, learn to let your elders sleep," he scolded, sitting upright and pulling out a book, "Your Altair? Or Malik?"

"Malik, sir."

"Like your father, impatient and no respect for higher ranking assassins."

"With all due respect," Malik winced slightly as the older man glared at him, his scarred face twisting in a hated scowl, "We've been waiting since dawn. We only wish to get started with our mission. It is very important to us, and we want to get it completed as soon as possible."

The man's glance softened as he looked to the door, Altair walking in and nodding his head, his arms crossed. He sighed and nodded his head, sitting back and petting his short beard as he looked them both over. It was a bit uncomfortable, especially for Malik, who got three times more glances than his partner. He was growing impatient, not liking to be kept waiting, when the man sat forward and opened his book, he sighed, before speaking. "You seek Isam Rasheef, correct?" he asked, more at a whisper than his normal booming voice.

"Yes sir," they both chimed.

"Sir, I know he was my father's partner, but what all did he do to be spoken like a plague?" Altair questioned, the man raising a brow. Malik only assumed that his friend wanted more information on the man then what they already had.

"You... really do not know, do you?" he questioned, his face relaxing in a sad, but curious glance. The older of the teens shook his head, making the old man sigh and stand up, putting his hands behind his back, "Two years after your birth, your mother was killed. No one knew why, no one knew by who, all that was known was the hatred behind it. Her death was brutal, and your father was devastated. Al Mualim sent Isam and Umar on a quest to spy on a group of Christian soldier's in the north. No one knows how Umar found out, but during the trip he discovered Isam's secret, that he was spying on the assassins all along, tipping off the Templar scum of our movement and plans. Someone had been suspected for many months, but never did anyone suspect Isam.

"Your father began to hunt him down, enraged at how his brother would betray him so. He caught him a month into his search, but was caught off guard giving the traitor time to escape. He never expected that his friend would openly admit the killing of your mother. He did it simply because she was a traitor in his mind, but ultimately it hurt your father deeply. He chased him for a long time after that, but was called to a stop by Al Mualim, who told him that his rage was going to turn him to madness, and sentenced him to teaching novices until he calmed down from that rage."

"I could understand how he felt," Malik said softly, "If someone close to me betrayed me like that, I wouldn't know how to react. I too, would probably seek his head."

Altair nodded his head, Malik peering at him from the corner of his eye. Was he alright? Was he mad? He couldn't tell. The other nodded his head again and looked up at the Rafiq, a determined sparkle in his eye, "I will have to avenge my mother's death, and do what my father wanted," he stated, calmer than the younger teen would have expected.

"Altair, what makes you so confident? Your father could not find this man. I honestly haven't seen him myself in a good two years. How are you, a boy that has not even turned the age of eighteen years yet, possibly catch this man?" the Rafiq questioned, crossing his arms, looking all to smug.

"I have something that my father did not have."

"And what would that be?"

"Malik Al-Sayf. He's one of the smartest individuals I have ever met. He can work his way through anything, and solve any problems that he faces."

The Rafiq scoffed and grinned, shaking his head as Malik blanched looking off to the side, embarrassed from the praise. The man pulled out a map and unrolled it, pointing his finger at one location, "Here is where I last heard he was. It was simply a rumor, so do not get your hopes up." he trailed his finger to the other side of the map, "In this area," he paused to draw an imaginary circle with the finger, "You will find a beggar man by the name of Aban Al-Rashid, who can be spotted as the only man on the street who wears rings on his fingers. He is a reliable source that can tell you anything about anyone as long as you do something for him in return. Normally the tasks are not hard, nor very long, so if you can, go to him. I can guarantee he will be of some help to you."

"Thank you for the information, Rafiq," Malik said, bowing his head slightly, and turning to leave. Altair stood still for a moment, his eyes meeting with the older man, who simply smirked and looked away.

"I do not trust him," Malik stated as soon as they hit the streets.

Altair nodded his head and looked to him, smiling grimly, "I got the same feeling from him. Should we follow what he suggested? Or look about ourselves?"

"I do not think he lied to us about where to gather information, but I do not think that he is telling us everything."

"Where do you want to go first?"

"The beggar. We might as well go straight for the information instead of going to his last heard location. One is more certain than the other."

They walked down the streets, side by side, only stopping to pose as scholars every so often as they passed guards. Upon arriving in the area, they sat on a bench, huddled together, hunched slightly, their palms together in a prayer. "Do you see him?" Malik whispered after a moment of scanning from under their hoods.

"No. What if he doesn't exist?" Altair hissed, sitting up and looking around, not bothering to conceal himself. "What if we are following a liar's advice?"

"What if you just are not looking in the right spot?" Altair jumped, looking to his free side, the man they were looking for sat, his hands together mimicking the two and smiling wide, his head covered in a hood, his mouth and chin only showing.

"Aban Al-Rashid?" Malik asked, sitting forward, the man nodding his head and standing up, jumping in front of them, squatting down and tilting his head to the side. "We were told to come and see you about a man named Isam Rasheef."

The man's decaying teeth showed more as he smiled wider, not showing surprise but simply amusement, "Have you been informed of how I exchange information, assassin?" Malik and Altair nodded, "Isam Rasheef... that won't come cheap. I need you to do something that you will not want to do. I want you to infiltrate the north Templar tower. Make the captain think you both are really interested in their cause. When you have done this, kill the captain. If you can do this, I will tell you where you can find him."

Malik looked at Altair, his brows furrowing. Altair slowly looked to his partner and frowned. Did they want to do this? "Take a moment, young Al-Sayf... young Ibn La Ahad, confer with one another. Discuss. Whatever you have to do." He stood and stepped backwards till he leaned back against a wall on the opposite side of the square.

"How did he...?" Malik stared at the man, Altair shaking his head, "But... should we?"

Altair was quiet for a moment, then sighed looking to him, his head tilted so the man watching them could not see his lips, "I do not understand this method. Why not just get rid of the captain? Why do we have to befriend him?"

Malik looked up, looking over to the man, who was peering down at his nails, looking as if he wasn't interested in the two of them. "We can start... See where it takes us?" he suggested. He waited for the other to nod, then stood up and walked over to him, Altair following behind.

"We'll do it," Altair stated, crossing his arms, "But we need a guarantee."

"I'll tell you a hint as collateral, but not enough information to be able to figure it out. Is it a deal?"

Malik nodded his head first, Altair second, the man grinning again, "He's someone you are relying on without your realizing it. He is not obvious, nor viewed as a traitor, but is however off to the side and not noticed easily," he stated. It was a frustrating hint, both of the teen's brows furrowed angrily. "Now, I expect you to live up to your end of this bargain. His name is Claude La Pierre. He comes out of the north tower at mid day for a walk through Jerusalem. He is normally with a group of three Templar soldiers, but he will be easy to talk to if you manage to get his attention. State that you are interested in the Templar cause. That alone will gain you some favor."

Malik and Altair watched the man as he smiled wider, tipping his hood down even more so, turned and walked to a nearby alleyway, and left them. Standing there, staring at the alleyway, Malik took Altair's arm and pulled him to the side, "We need different clothes. Perhaps the Rafiq has some we can use," he said softly, leading him off to the side. "Is this captain we are suppose to kill... is he even deserving?" he muttered.

Altair didn't answer, not at first. As soon as they reached the ladder he turned and pulled the younger teen into his arms. He blushed and looked to him, his eyes wide as the other buried his face in his neck, "We might not get another chance to be like this again after we go up this ladder," he whispered.

He didn't know what was going to happen from here out, nor did Altair. The unknown was unnerving and rather frustrating. Why did Aban want this man dead so badly? He was just a beggar. Also the unnerving feeling of distrust with others around them from the hint he gave them was a rather terrible feeling. He slowly let Malik go, and grimly smiled, he started up the ladder, leaving the younger teen below. Altair was right, that was possibly the last time that they were able to be that close. They would probably be watched. They also needed a story to go by.

He headed up the ladder, and hopped down into the bureau, walking into the next room, Altair already talking to the Rafiq, who looked disgusted. "Next room over, bottom of the basket should be clothes that you can wear. I certainly hope you know what you are doing. That beggar sometimes asks to much, but I do not argue against the death of that man, he's a terrible man and has the potential to be worse later on, especially since he just gained the position of captain and the authority over other men."

The two teens walked into the other room, closing the door behind them. They stripped after finding the clothes, pausing only to look away from each other, both of their cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment. It wasn't anything they had not seen before, but it had been a while, and now things were a bit different. Altair reached out, taking the door handle, but was stopped, Malik reaching out and taking his wrist. He pulled him back and leaned up, kissing him deeply before pulling back and grinning slightly.

"Shall we?" he asked, the other laughing softly, pushing him back against the wall and pressing his lips harder than he intended against his partner's. He felt the taller teen's tongue rub against his lips, parting them he greeted his thrusting tongue with his own. He groaned at the feeling of his tongue rubbing against the roof of his mouth. His body was melting, his knees were collapsing. Strong arms snaked around his waist, holding him up, his body pressed to his. He was losing his senses. He was losing all grip on reality. Weren't they suppose to be doing something? He honestly couldn't remember. All he knew was that their lips seemed to melt together, seemed to mesh together perfectly, and belonged together.

Altair pulled back, staring into his eyes, panting. He half laughed, realizing that he was holding Malik off the ground, and slowly set him down, reaching up and running his hand through his short hair. "So much for changing... The Rafiq probably thinks we're incredibly slow or slacking off and taking a nap."

"A nap sounds good," the younger teen joked, straightening out his shirt, thankful that it went down to his thighs, and his pants for being loose. "Time to face the world. What's our story?"

"Story?"

"Are we friends? Cousins? How did we meet?"

"Friends, since we were young. That wouldn't be a lie. We met after our parents died, and lived on the streets together. Now names... We can't use our own..."

"Umar Rasheef," Altair stated with a smirk, then pointed at Malik, "Faheem Isam."

"Some sort of joke?" Malik raised a brow, grinning at the use of their father's names.

"Our own inside joke."

Malik shook his head, smiling and opening the door. Leaving the bureau as Umar Rasheef and Faheem Isam, they headed out into the city in search for Claude La Pierre.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>Yeah, I said two weeks... But I wrote more than half of it on the plane =( But I delayed putting it up, so I wouldn't seem like an over obsessed writer... which I sort of am... Haha... But the good news is, I do have interwebs! It's... really bad, and through my cell phone, but hey, it allows me to upload chapters, good news for you guys! :D<p>

Hope you liked that little tiny bit of fan service between the two, no matter how short it was x3

Please review~

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>dippychick16:<span>_ I know I already thanked you for spotting that mistake, but again, I have to thank you xD. I still feel a bit silly for missing that D:

_Uccan:_ I'm glad :D Although they known each other's feelings, the awkwardness and shyness of any new relationship is always there even for friends who have known each other for years. I always like that awkwardness, it's adorable to read, see, anything xD

_BADAZZtoldya:_ Yay :D I'm very glad that you are happy with them. x3 And thank you so much for the compliment! It means a lot :)

_Summier:_ Thank you so much! I am very flattered! I hope you will continue to like the story, and be sure to look at other stories out here on , there are some real amazing ones :)


	12. Chapter 12

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 12

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><p>Claude La Pierre was a big man, muscular and tall. But his face had a soft look to it, still the face of a teenager. This shocked Malik as they peered at him from an alleyway. They observed him for a moment, before Altair took the lead, heading in the Templar's direction. He approached him, skidding in front of him and lowering his head almost immediately, "Captain La Pierre, my name is Umar Rasheef, this is my friend Faheem Isam, We are interested in your cause, may we have a moment?" he looked up, the other man peering down at him with curious eyes. He gave a curt nod, gesturing with his fingers for them to follow, turned and headed back to the tower.<p>

The two followed him, Malik close behind Altair, glancing back at the two guards that accompanied Claude. He was feeling uneasy, no doubt Altair was as well, but he didn't show it. As they passed through into the tower, they followed down a hallway, where Claude entered a room, sitting down behind a desk, gesturing to the two seats in front of him. They didn't look exactly sturdy, but they took the seats anyway, Malik sitting forward a bit, scared the seat would collapse underneath him.

"We were curious, is there any room for two lowly individuals? What I mean to say is... is there anything we can help out with? We've been observing from afar, and we are intrigued."

"Are you certain this is the life for you, Umar Rasheef?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, speaking for the first time.

"Positive, sir. We don't have a habit of doing anything worth while, and we'd like to fix that."

Claude's eyes shifted to look at Malik, who stared at the floor, simply listening. "And you... Faheem Isam was it?"

Malik looked up and nodded, "Yes sir."

"What kind of life have you had?"

Malik didn't know what he should and shouldn't say. He smiled lightly and shrugged, "Normal as anyone else's. Born on the streets, lived with Umar for most of my life. My only regret is not being able to stop my mother from being killed when I was younger," that much was true. Altair's eyes shifted from Claude to Malik, almost curiously.

"And who killed your mother?" he asked, placing his hands together, sitting forward so his brown hair fell in his eyes.

"A man in white. At first I thought he was a scholar... but... He was different..."

Altair's eyes shot up to Claude once again as he cracked a wide smile and stood, "An assassin. It seems we have something in common. We both have motive. Do you know why I strive to do well with my brothers? Do you know why I enjoy hunting assassins down and slitting their throats?" Malik stared up at him, awaiting his answer, feeling a sudden angry swell grow in his chest. The man leaned down, eye to eye with Malik, his eyes glinting in an insane manner, "My brother was killed. He was a nobleman by the name of Aariz Riyad, an innocent bystander who was walking along, found an assassin trying to escape, attempted to stop him, and was killed. Later on, not even a month later, I watched that assassin die. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed watching Umar Ibn La Ahad being hanged. But there was always going to be another assassin. I decided from that point on I'd join with the Templars and eradicate the assassin rats that plague the world.

"Do you, Faheem, feel the same way? Do you want to see the end of the assassins?"

Malik nodded slowly, looking to Altair as the tall man smirked and turned around, heading back around his desk. His partner was in anguish, he knew that. He looked to Claude once again, who sat down and smirked, his head tilted to the side. His eyes shifted from both of the teens, the expression fixed on his face as he observed them. "We'll give the two of you a trial run. For now, since you are part of this city, we'll have you spy. We have an idea of the location of where the assassins meet, gather mission information and all that. We'll position you around the area to spy and confirm if that is where they are meeting."

The man stood, the teens standing as well, following him as he left the room. He led them back out, opening the door and smiling at them, "I'll seek you two out in two weeks," he stated, walking through the streets, the two guards who followed him before rushing after them and walking behind Malik and Altair, looking both annoyed with not being informed of the captain's leaving. Once they arrived to their location, the two were pleased to see that they were no where near the bureau. "We have heard rumors it is in this location. I trust you both will be alright? To be safe, I think this should be our last time meeting unless there is an emergency. Understood?"

Malik and Altair nodded, and watched as the man nodded his head in a goodbye, and left, the two guards eying them, then rushing after him again. Once the men were out of view, Malik looked to Altair, who fell back against the wall and shook his head, "Do you think this is why the beggar chose to kill Claude?" he whispered, the younger teen rubbing the back of his head and leaning back against the wall and sliding down to sit. "We have to still go through with this..."

"Will it be alright?" Malik asked after a moment of silence. Altair slid down to sit next to him once again, "Will Al Mualim be alright with this? We aren't going against the creed... He is truly a bad man..."

Altair's brows furrowed slightly as he looked to the side, "Hell with the creed..." Malik's eyes widened slightly, "That's... Not what I meant. Just..." he trailed off and looked into Malik's eyes, "Have you ever felt that maybe it's better to do things in another way? I understand that killing innocents is a bad thing. But sometimes, isn't sacrifice needed? It's something I've been wondering... "

"Sometimes... But I do think its something we should avoid. I think it is necessary to look for other ways before resulting to that... Where did this come from?" Malik was scared. Why was Altair bringing this up? Did he really think of breaking the creed that often?

"It's something that came into my mind when he mentioned my father. Thinking of all the assassins over the many years... Do you think they were always able to avoid killing innocent people?" He reached back to grab his hood, mostly out of habit, then huffed a sigh realizing he wasn't wearing his robes.

"I don't know," Malik said, as Altair slid down to sit next to him and hug his knees. "I don't think it should be something we need to worry about." Altair nodded his head and shook his head, laying it on Malik's shoulder, "Are you still in pain over your father's death?" The silence that followed only confirmed it. He frowned and looked to his friend, refraining from grabbing his hand since they were in public. "Your father wouldn't want you to be like this, Altair."

"I cannot help it. It bothers me. I never really got to know him, only knew what was being told to me. I know you know the feeling since you never knew your father, but it's a bit different also, since I had the opportunity to know him."

Malik didn't know what to say. He knew what the other was feeling, but at the same time not just like he said. He sat in silence, letting his friend use his shoulder so that he could hide his face. This whole situation was uncomfortable. They were use to hiding, being unseen, and without their hoods they were able to be seen, and felt vulnerable, then the fact that the man they were suppose to befriend then kill had witnessed the death of Altair's father... It was all becoming too much. Was Isam Rasheef really worth all this mental frustration? He honestly didn't know. All he knew was they had two weeks to sit around and then report that the assassins were not near here.

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><p>It was nearly the end of two weeks before anything really happened. Altair was laying down in the alleyway that they made their home for the time being, Malik was out in the square nearby, staring around and peering at the different people all around. Out of the corner of his eye there was a flash of white. His head shot to the side, seeing a man, hooded in a white cloak. It was obvious to any assassin that this was not a member of their creed. He held himself in a different manner. It wasn't graceful how he jumped from building to building, nor did he wear any belts signaling his rank. The only thing remotely accurate about the man was the fact that they were white robes he was wearing, and a red sash around his waist. The teen snorted to himself, scoffing as the man walked around overhead.<p>

He looked to the side as Altair walked next to him, undoubtedly noticing the man as well. "Pathetic," the older teen stated, crossing his arms, "Worst imitation I've ever seen."

"Indeed." He looked to the side, Claude walking over and glancing up where the two were looking, "It's a fake," Malik stated, the man raising a brow.

"And your sure? How?"

"Look at his waist. It's as if he wants to be caught, the assassins are more subtle then that, only a bit of red is shown, not out in the open like that."

"It would seem that you are right," the man stated, slapping Malik on the back and smiling, "Good work. Any others like this? Any assassins at all?"

"None sir," Altair stated, shaking his head.

"Good good, one district down then. Follow me."

The two teens followed the other man, heading back to the tower they had visited briefly almost two weeks ago. Upon entering they took a turn to the right, and down a passage they did not go down before. They entered a small room filled with boxes and a wall lined with swords. Claude walked over to a set of boxes, opened two and pulled out a white shirt with a red cross etched over it. He handed it over to Malik first, who was a little surprised at the weight of it. Upon looking inside it he noticed a lining of chain mail on the inside. He looked up, taking the pair of brown pants the man then handed him, watching as he walked over to another set of boxes, "Put them on," he ordered, the two men nodding, and stripping down to put on the clothes. They were handed belts, which they clipped on, then a pair of shoes each, which they slid on and stood in front of the man, who smiled and nodded. "They suit you both," he stated, grinning as he gestured with his hands for them to follow.

"You both will do well with being by my side. You both have experience and knowledge of what the assassins look like, and will be a great asset to me. Let me show you to your quarters," he walked past them, the two following him, looking to each other on their way out. "You both are friends, so I didn't make arrangements for two rooms, I hope that is alright?"

"Of course, Sir," they both sounded as they started to climb up some stairs. They arrived at a door, which Claude opened and stepped inside. They headed down a short hall, and stopped at a door, which he opened and stepped to the side, smiling at them. "This will be your room. My room is right next door," he paused to point at the door. "We'll be up and about shortly after dawn, so I expect you downstairs and waiting then."

After they were left alone, Altair sighed, flopping back against the bed. The younger teen sat down on his own bed and looked around curiously. "Can't we just off him now?" the older grumbled, turning his head to look at Malik who smiled and shook his head.

"I don't think he thinks of us as friends quite yet. We're simply valuable to him."

"How will that beggar know?"

"How did he know our names?"

Altair blinked, obviously have forgotten that small detail. He shrugged and turned his head looking back at the ceiling, "I just want out of this place. I don't feel comfortable here."

"Nor do I... I felt safer sleeping on the streets." He blinked and smiled lightly as he felt his bed shift slightly, the older assassin slipping into bed with him and laying his head near Malik's. "Is that suppose to make me feel a bit safer?"

"Anyone could feel safe sleeping next to me. I'm Altair Ibn La Ahad after all."

Malik rolled his eyes and rolled over on his side, facing his partner and shook his head, "You're something else, Altair."

"I try," Altair chuckled, leaning forward and kissing the other's nose, making him scrunch his nose and look off to the side. He smiled wide and leaned forward, hiding his face in the front of his neck. The younger let out a shaky sigh, closing his eyes, and pushing back on his partner's shoulders. He half laughed at the pouting face of the teen who stared up at him.

"We can't act like this here, Altair..."

"Why not? We're behind a closed door, we are in the same room-"

"We have the man we have to kill right next door?"

Altair frowned and rolled on his back, "Well... When you put it like that..." A sudden grin appeared on his face as he rolled over, on top of Malik, who gasped and tried to push him back.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Saying hello to my partner."

"Hello. Now get off."

"I'm comfy."

"I don't care, you're crushing me."

"I'm not that much bigger than you," the taller teen pouted out his lip, the other looking away, his eyes narrowing at the wall. "Malik," he sang, putting his hand on his cheek and moving his head to make him face him, Malik still glancing to the side not looking at him. "Malik look at me, please." He slowly looked up into his eyes to find him looking down at him sadly. His look softened as he stared up at him, not knowing what to say, or if he should do something. "I don't want to do this..."

"It's... a little too late for that," Malik shook his head. "If we want to find Isam Rasheef, this is what we have to do. It's the right this to do, right? I mean if we do not end this man's life more assassins could be harmed in the future."

"Yeah, I know. You're right. I just... I've never questioned anything I'm told to do. But this time... I just don't want to do this." Altair rolled off him, and laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. Malik rolled on his side, and took his hand, bringing it up to his lips and pressing them to his palm. He glanced up and smiled lightly as his partner did, turning his head to look at him. "I'm acting like such a novice..."

"Yeah," he half laughed and sat up, "Stupid novice. Doesn't understand that he's a human being and sometimes human thoughts invade his simple mind."

"Simple? Seesh Mal, cruel."

Malik laid back down and smiled wide, allowing his eyes to close, "Early morning wake up call, just like at home. We better go to sleep."

"We haven't even eaten..." Altair grumbled.

"There's not much to eat, nor do I really...trust it."

"We can leave and find food?"

"It's after dark, Altair..."

"Fine, you owe me a meal in the morning."

"Pah. Goodnight Altair."

"Goodnight Mal."

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><p>Malik closed the book and let out a sigh, standing up and leaving the room. It had been a while since he had anything to eat, and he knew all to well that his stomach's growling was only going to get worse. He walked down the stairs that he was all too familiar with, grimly smiling at the memories that he had been going over in his head.<p>

He exited the tower and moved aside as a group of young novices raced out of the tower, laughing and smiling as they chased after the one in the front, heading to the aroma that drifted from the food down below. It was a bit surprising that the food smelled good, and was curious to see if it tasted as good as it smelled.

"Oh, Malik!"

He looked back and nearly frowned as Abbas rushed down to meet him. "Hello, brother," he greeted, forcing a smile.

"It's been a while since I've really seen you, how have you been?"

"Well, and yourself?"

"Well. Have you seen Altair? I need to discuss something with him-"

"If it's about the Apple again you can hold your tongue." The two turned to look at Altair, who came up behind them, his arms crossed, eyes narrowed at Abbas like an eagle eying it's prey. "Is it?" he questioned.

"Altair, you do not know how to use it..."

"And it's obvious you do not either. Go eat Abbas."

Unable to argue with a superior, Abbas huffed and turned, leaving the two alone. Malik didn't know what to say. What happened while he was away? His brows furrowed as he looked back to his ex partner, "What's going on, Altair?"

Altair didn't answer at first, walking to his side, then sighed, "Let's get some food and head up to the tower. I'll explain when we are alone."

Once the two got their bowls of stew, they headed up a tower, opening the door at the top, Altair flopping back on the floor, Malik closing the door behind him, and sitting across from him. Although he knew he was hungry, his stomach making the argument that he was starving with all it's growling, he suddenly didn't want to eat at all.

"After you left, Abbas took a hold of the Apple. He claimed, basically, that I didn't know how to use it. Nearly killed himself showing how he would use it. Ever since that moment the idiot has been sucking up to me, trying to get me to show him how to use it. As if I even know... I simply know how Al Mualim used it. It's so... so much more.."

"And you don't intend to tell him."

"Correct. I need to go away soon... I need to follow a lead-"

"I'll come with you."

"No Mal, no... That's why I called you here. I do not trust Abbas. You understand the creed more than even I do. You can teach them... You can lead them."

"I don't know Altair..."

"When I get back I'm all yours. I promise." Malik's brow twitched. He'd be lying if he said he didn't like the sound of Altair being his. He bit at his lip, and turned the stew around with his spoon. "Mal? Please say something."

"Do you remember Claude La Pierre?" Altair blinked, but slowly nodded, "I've been writing about him today. The night before we really joined with him, all you could think about is food."

"I was hungry."

Malik half laughed and looked up at him, smiling wide, "Stupid Novice..."

"I believe that's master assassin to you," he pointed his spoon to him, and gawked as he shook his head in response.

"You'll always be a novice to me."

"No way to redeem myself?"

"Kiss me."

"Wha?"

"I believe my answer was clear..."

Altair set his stew to the side, crawling over to him. He paused before their lips met, Malik closing the gap between them, pulling him close, setting his stew off to the side, and sighing as they parted. They stared at each other for a moment, before the cheesy grin that Altair gave his friend in the past appeared on his lips.

"I do love you, Malik."

"I know, Altair. Now eat your food before it gets cold."

Malik reached off to the side, grabbing his bowl, dipping the spoon in the broth, then bit onto the meat substance that he fished out of it. Altair simply nodded, grinned, and scooted back, taking his own bowl and began to eat. He had to forgive the other man. How could he not? As he peered across, watching as the other ate, he thought to himself about how hard this situation would be for any normal person. The man betrayed him, because of his faults, his brother was murdered, he married and was having a child with a ex-Templar... The list had opportunity to grow. It was the last chance he was going to give him. It was all his heart could take. As he finished his stew he smiled, noticing the other had fallen asleep.

"Don't mess this up, Novice," he stated at a whisper, setting the bowl in his lap. "Please don't break my heart again."

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>So many references in this chapter. I'd be surprised if everyone got all of them. A few of them are more obvious, others are subtle and hard to see. I'll let you guy's minds wander to find them if you really want to, but don't stress to much on it D:<p>

Also, it's been what... 3 days since the last update? Something like that... I feel like I've become that writer that overly obsesses and submits to often... Problem is, I was told to "relax" on this vacation. What people don't realize is I draw and write when I relax, resulting in to much stuff to throw around LOL. So please, if you think I'm obsessively submitting, it won't last THAT much longer. Dx

Please review~ I love to hear what you think, whether it be screaming at me telling me I'm a noob, or telling me you like it, speak freely~~~

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>BADAZZtoldya<span>_: xD Believe it or not I come up with things for chapters 2 or 3 chapters before hand. I've been told I have a very overactive imagination, and it shows (least I think so xD).

_dippychick16_: I actually hadn't noticed the irony in Malik's statement until I was rereading it over for errors xD. It was a bit perfect. I'm very glad to hear you are happy with the two.


	13. Chapter 13

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 13

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><p>Malik walked into their old room, sitting down on his old bed, watching as Altair followed him inside, laying down in his own bed. He hugged a cushion, turning his head to look at the man across the room, who took a hold of his book and opened it. He pulled out his quill and bottle of ink, and looked up at Altair, who lightly smiled, closing his eyes.<p>

Altair always had a calming feeling about him, at least for the Rafiq. Just the fact that he was in the room made him feel safer and more calm then he had been since before Al Mualim's death. He dipped his quill in the ink, smiling to himself as he continued where he left off.

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><p>A month passed quickly before they were finally left alone with Claude. They still weren't sure if the other man trusted them, but both of the teens were growing anxious. Malik's birthday was hours away, and his partner made a point to remind him every day that it was coming up, until the day before. They laid in bed, Malik pretending to be asleep, his eyes closed, knowing fully well that Altair was staring at his face, smiling. Altair rolled over quickly, making to fall on the floor, face down, something he normally only did back in Masyaf when someone was about to enter their room.<p>

Seconds after Altair started to make soft breathing sounds, their door opened, soft footsteps could be heard as someone approached them. "Faheem, Umar, wake up," It was Claude. The two sat up, Altair acting more groggily than Malik, and looked at the captain curiously.

"I need you both to come with me, hurry, get dressed."

The two quickly got dressed, following the man out of the room, and down the stairs heading out of the tower. Both of them were curious, both of them wondered where they were headed, but both of them didn't dare ask. They headed down the street, three Templar soldiers following them as they weaved through the alleyways. They stopped just outside the gates, the three soldiers stepping forward and grabbing the two teens, holding them down as they looked at them confused, then looked up at Claude, who was smiling wide, almost evilly.

"You both think I'm stupid, don't you? You both think that I couldn't see what you are? You have a missing finger, most assassins are missing it," he stated, pointing to Altair as he pulled out a sword, pressing the tip to his chin, "Then there's also this detail that just bothered me for weeks... You look just like him. My brother's murderer... You are his son, correct?" Altair didn't answer, making the man growl lifting the blade and slicing against his face leaving a gash through the right side of his upper and lower lips. "Answer me."

Again, the older of the two didn't say anything, just glared up at him, his lips bleeding. Claude rolled his eyes and pointed his blade to Malik, pointing it to his neck, "Tell me, or I'll kill your friend."

"Yes. He was my father..." Altair answered almost immediately, the captain's eyes sparkling with glee as he lowered his blade and faced the older teen once again, "That wasn't so hard was it...? So what's this boy to you? You're friends like you had told me before? Your assassin partner? Or is it more? You love him?" Altair didn't answer yet again. His jaw was tight, his eyes stone cold as he stared up at the man.

"You're wrong," Malik spoke up shaking his head, the Captain raising a brow and looking down at him, "It's not like that at all... I... I love him. He's disgusted with it, but he promised my father he'd look after me. He hates me." Altair looked at him through the corner of his eyes, hoping that Malik had a meaning behind these words. "If he hadn't promised my father, he'd let me die."

"And you love a man like that? How?" Claude barked, sheathing his blade and squatting down to face Malik, "How could you love a man that would rather have you dead?"

"Look at him," Malik answered almost immediately, "How could I not?"

Claude's smile returned as he laughed, standing up, and placing a hand on his stomach, "Oh this is brilliant!" he gasped, shaking his head as his laughter grew louder, "All this time... You're a little whore aren't you? If you were born a woman you'd work the streets wouldn't you?" Malik didn't answer, simply looked down, and to Altair out of the corner of his eye. "So what do you plan to do now? Hm? I'm going to kill your assassin lover. Will you follow me instead?"

Malik slowly looked up the man smirking, "Such passionate eyes... Let him go," he moved his hand, the Templar holding him back let him drop to his hands. Claude paced a moment, then squatted down to Altair, pulling out a dagger, "Never did I dream that Umar had a son... And never did I think he was stupid enough to come this close to me... I don't think you understand how much joy this makes me feel."

The younger teen glared at Claude, reaching in his shirt. He was glad that the Templar's focus were all on Altair. He pulled out a knife, lunging forward burring the blade in a small gap of the captain's armor. The three guards gasped, the two holding Altair dropped him, giving him the moment to grab the knife the captain had dropped, stabbing Claude in the other side, the man's face contorting with the pain and confusion he was feeling.

Altair reached out, grabbing Malik's hand and pulling him with him as they raced down the streets. Bells erupted around them as they scrambled up a wall, and jumped from roof to roof as they raced as close to the bureau as they could, jumping in a pile of hay below, and staying perfectly still, their hands still grasped together. The younger teen was shaking. It was the first time he had actually made a fatal blow to a person. Every other time it was always Altair who made the first move. He felt himself being pulled, and allowed the other to hold him as he bit his lip, trying not to cry.

They didn't know how long they had been there, it must have been hours. By the time the bells stopped, they still hadn't moved, holding onto each other. They slowly emerged, noticing that the sun was beginning to rise, and climbed up the nearby ladder. "How's your lip?" Malik whispered, walking to the edge of the entrance to the bureau.

Altair shook his head, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine... I'm sorry that I had said those things."

He shook his head again and patted his shoulder, "Let's report so we can get some sleep. I don't wish to see that beggar while feeling like this," he stated, jumping down, Malik following.

The first thing they did was head to the room their old clothes were in. They dressed into their assassin robes, Malik taking a cloth, dipping it in a bowl of water, and pressing it to Altair's still bleeding lip. "I'm fine Mal."

"It's going to scar."

"The first of my many future wounds," the older teen joked, smiling and taking the cloth, bringing it down and leaning forward, kissing Malik ever so softly. "You should have let me do the first blow," he scolded, standing upright, the other grimacing.

"I hit him in a vital spot, none the less he will be dead soon if not already..."

Altair frowned and shook his head. What could be said? Anyone knew that the first time they took anyone's life would always be the hardest for any assassin, which was why he always took the lead and made sure Malik never had to. His head shot to the side, Malik's following as the door opened slowly. The beggar slipped inside, closing the door behind him, looking as smug as ever as he grinned, staring at them.

"You failed to complete the agreement," he stated, tilting his head to the side.

"We did not! We killed him!" Altair argued, his brows furrowing in annoyance.

"Stupid boy, I told you to befriend him. You needed the trust. There was no trust, he saw through you the moment you showed up."

"We spent over a month on this mission," Malik stated, his eyes narrowing, "Altair almost died. We killed the target after attempting to make him trust us over that length of time. It should be enough."

"Not for the life of Isam Rasheef it isn't," the beggar argued, his smile disappearing, "He is a dear person to me. I asked you to do something and you failed. Roll over and accept that."

"Malik's right," Altair crossed his arms, "We deserve to know."

The beggar's jaw tightened, his head lowered more. The two were growing impatient as the man stood in silence. He let out a sigh and nodded his head, "Promise me one thing."

"And whats that?"

"Kill him yourselves. Do not let Al Mualim have his way with him first. Agreed?"

Malik blinked, and looked to his partner, who was equally confused. Have his way with him? What did the man mean by that? Altair nodded his head, Malik soon nodding as well as they looked to the man again. He took the edge of his hood and slowly removed it, revealing his sickly skinny face, and scrawny form. He did not seem much different from any other beggar on the street except that he resembled Abbas and his father.

"You betrayed my father," Altair growled, his fists clenching, "You killed my mother."

"Incorrect." The man stood upright and proud, no longer hunched forward. "You see only the side that you want to, which isn't always right. If you plan to grow up and walk in your father's foot steps you need to learn to have a broader point of view then that."

"Then tell us," Malik interjected before Altair got the nerve to punch him, "What is the side that we do not know?"

"Ah," he let out a hollow laugh, "That's the problem now isn't it? If I told you the truth you wouldn't believe it."

"Just tell us," Altair edged forward, the younger teen reaching out and holding him back so he couldn't do anything just yet.

"Al Mualim told me to spy on the Templars. He ordered me to make friends with them, just as I did to you. It was nearly the same order, except the man I was suppose to kill trusted me. I was going to do it one night, but the man left the area before I had the chance. I was explaining this to the master when a woman walked in on our conversation. He stabbed her, Altair. Al Mualim killed your mother to prove a point to me that he did not have any problem with doing as such if I fail again.

"Your father was angry, and sad. Of course I didn't blame him, but I also couldn't tell him the truth. On our next mission the commander that I was suppose to kill was nearby. While Umar was asleep I set out to do what I was suppose to. Before I had a chance, your father had caught me after following me to the camp. He accused me of being a traitor, and threatened to expose me to Al Mualim. When I tried to explain myself I told him the truth of how your mother had died. He was blinded by rage, accused me of being the murderer, and I had no choice but to run.

"You think I liked being labeled as a traitor by the only family I had? I couldn't go back. If I did Al Mualim would kill me for failure to kill the commander, and to keep his secret quiet." He stopped and looked up, Altair's nostrils were flared, his brows furrowed in anger. "You have the same look as your father did when he didn't believe me. I accept death, Altair. I embrace it. Kill me now."

Altair made to end him, but was halted as Malik rushed in front of him. "Stop Altair. What if what if he is telling the truth?"

"It's a lie Malik! My father isn't daft, and nor am I," he tried to move around him, but Malik moved again.

"Stop Altair." Altair glared down at him, his fists clenched, ready to hit him if he had to. The smaller teen shook his head, then glanced back at Isam, who hadn't moved, simply observing what was going to happen. "I understand you are angry. Al Mualim is my master too, but what if what he is saying is right?"

"And how are we to prove that, Malik? Our mission was to kill this man, and here he is. If he is telling the truth, what more can we do? We'd believe him while the rest of the creed doesn't. It doesn't matter if we believe him or not. Don't you see that?" Malik slowly looked down, grimacing at his partner's words. He was right. Even if they believed him that would not change anything about what they had to do.

"I told you, I accept my death. Whether you believe me or not, that is up to you. But at least you know the truth." Malik looked back at Isam, who was smiling grimly at them. Altair walked forward, around the smaller teen and faced the older man, who was looking at him as if he was faced with an old friend. "Peace Altair. Your father is above, smiling down on you proudly."

"Peace brother," Altair whispered, putting his hands on the sides of his head. There was a moment of silence, before he swiftly and skillfully turned the man's head, instantly ending his life. He caught the body before it fell, and laid it to the ground, reaching off to the side and taking a cloth, which he covered over him. He stood a moment, before turning and looking back at Malik who had not moved a muscle. "I am sorry Malik, I know you didn't want this."

"It had to be done," he whispered, lifting his left hand to cover it over his eyes. "So much death..."

Altair frowned and looked down. It had just come to his realization that it had been Malik's birthday for a few hours now. At the thought, he wanted to say something, but couldn't bare to let a sound come from his mouth. He reached out, put his hand on his shoulder, and led him out of the room, past the confused looking Rafiq and to the cushions in the entryway. He got him to lay down with little fuss, and walked over to the old man standing in the doorway, demanding answers of what happened.

Malik wasn't sure what was said, nor did he really care at this point. He laid his head against one of the cushions, closed his eyes and allowed himself to sleep, not wanting to listen or think about what happened, or what was going on.

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><p>Malik lifted his quill, turning his head to look at the master assassin sitting next to him. When had he moved to his bed? He ignored the question and smiled at him, his curious eyes shifting from the blanket they sat upon and the book. "You aren't allowed to read yet," he stated, poking him in the forehead with the feather, "Only when I say you can."<p>

Altair pouted out his lip and laid down, laying his head on Malik's knee and looking up at him, "How is it that I miss you so much whenever I don't see you?" He reached up and placed his hand against his cheek, making the Rafiq sigh and place his own over it.

"Sweet talking me isn't going to get you to read what I've written," Malik snapped, Altair sticking out his tongue and sitting up, "Think of how you go about things, Altair. I'm not dumb, I see when there is an ulterior motive to what you do or say."

"That's not fair, you always know what I'm doing..."

"I make a note of knowing everything about a person that I love," Malik stated, then blinked, pausing and looking at Altair out of the corner of his eye. He had meant to keep that little statement to himself. Upon seeing the cheeky grin upon the assassin's face, he shook his head and look away. "Anyway... aren't there some assassin duties you need to attend to or something?"

"Like what?"

"Like... novices. Watching over them? Something..."

"You just want me gone," Altair pouted, scooting forward and wrapping his arms around Malik's waist, "I have a better idea..."

"No," Malik shoved him off, "No. Go make a new friend or...something," his face turned red. Again, Altair pouted, sitting on his knees, his head tilted downward, his eyes staring up at the other, his lower lip sticking out as he held his hands in front of him innocently."Out Novice," he pointed to the door.

"I'll just stay here. I'll be quiet, I promise."

Malik rolled his eyes and pointed over to the bed on the opposite side of the room. The other scoffed, but obeyed as he got up and walked over, laying down on the bed once again. He wouldn't admit it, but these little outbursts amused him. He picked up the book and quill once again, and began to write once more, grinning to himself.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>I think it's very apparent how amused I was with the older segment here... It was short, yet so fun D:<p>

Yeahhhh I updated yesterday... But I already had this one done D8

I think I'm spoiling you guys a little too much =w= Oh well, you deserve it for being amazing~

This will _probably_ be the last speedy update since I come home on thursday. I say probably, but you never know, I might post one right before I leave, or right when I get back. We shall see~

Please review~ I love to hear what you are thinking, it brightens my day, good or bad news.

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Death Escapist<span>_: We shall see~ I can't promise anything Dx

_TruckFullOfDeadBabies_: I'm very glad to hear you like the story thus far ^^ I don't plan on stopping anytime soon, so don't worry~ x3

_Uccan:_ I'm glad that you like the story that much! It really makes me happy to hear :) As for Claude being a non-canon character, I honestly looked for one that would fit him and his persona before really coming up with him. No one really caught my eye as to fit him or his personality so I had to make an original character instead. I am glad to hear that you liked how he fit in :D

_dippychick16_: XD! I wish I could take a year long vacation, that'd be lovely =w= As for Abbas, if I had my way with him... Oh wait... I do 8D Won't say anymore than that x3

_BADAZZtoldya_: I'm glad you like it, and I'm glad I can help you relax! Makes me feel all warm and fizzy inside to know that my writing is helping you out x3

_Dredonis_: I shall! I have been having a lot of fun :)

_eliina_: Ah yes, I assume you mean school by courses? Totally understandable. I'm dreading to return to college next week for the very reason that it is incredibly time consuming D:. I am glad you are enjoying the two in both past and present, and I am very pleased to hear that they are in character! I have a fear of them going to OOC sometimes, and just pray it's my imagination. Dx


	14. Chapter 14

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 14

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><p>Malik yawned as he rolled over on the cushions. How long had he been asleep? He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Where was Altair? His eyes opened wide as he looked around almost frantically and paused as he spotted him off to the side staring down at a board with a bunch of pieces on it. He sat up and walked over to him, looking down at it, curiously. "What is it?" he asked after a moment, Altair shrugging and looking up at him again.<p>

"You weren't out long," he stated.

"How long?"

"A couple of hours, it's not even mid-day." Malik watched as he stood up, and blushed as he felt the other's arms snake around his waist. "Happy birthday," he whispered in his ear, making the smaller teen shiver and involuntarily grab onto him. "Anything you want to do before we head back to Masyaf? Anything at all?"

"It's just another day Altair..."

"Untrue. It's the day you were born. The best day in the world." Malik rolled his eyes and looked away as the other peered down at him, "Anything you want? I'll get you anything."

"I have everything I could ever want. I have you, I have a family... You already gave me the sword before we came here, that was more than enough," he bit his lip as he felt lips on his neck, "Altair... the Rafiq could come any moment..."

"He left to go spy on an official; he won't be back for a few hours." The taller teen rubbed circles with his thumbs against Malik's sides, driving him to insanity as he trailed kisses up his neck to his ear, then back down.

"It's hot in here.." Malik stated, turning his head, not sure what he should do.

"We should fix that," he felt the other's hand snake around to his front, pulling at his robes.

Malik's thoughts were wild. He knew what Altair was doing, but the more his mind screamed to stop, the more his body ignored as his hands stayed still, his head lowered, watching as the other slipped his hand up against his bare chest, rubbing against his skin tenderly. Should he stop him? He knew he should, but did he really want him to stop?

His hand stopped, allowing his fingers to trace over the muscles on his abdomen. "Is this okay?" he heard the other whisper. How could he answer that? He slowly shook his head, reaching down and taking his hand still on his waist, holding it in his own.

"Not here..." he managed to whisper, knowing fully well that his face was probably red. "I... I'm not sure I'm ready for that." He felt the other nod and bit his lip, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I love you; I'm not going to go against you like that." Altair kissed Malik's temple, removing his hand from under his robes, and straightening them out for him. "Do you want to go home?"

Malik nodded, "I miss my brother, Majid and Tamir."

"I have a few questions for Al Mualim..." the younger teen looked up, amazed in the drastic change in his expression. "I'm not saying I believe Isam, but just the thought of what he said..." he shook his head and looked down at him and smiled, "I'm sure our master wouldn't do something like that."

"Yes," Malik slowly nodded, pulling away from him, and walking over to their bags that rested near the cushions, "Do we need to wait for the Rafiq?"

"No, in fact I'm sure he would prefer it if we left before he came back. He's a rather grumpy man, I'd much rather face any other Rafiq but him."

The younger teen grinned to himself as he slung the bag over his shoulder, "And what would be your perfect Rafiq, hm?"

"You of course. We'd have a bureau all to ourselves. During the day, master assassin Altair kills the evil, and at night he comes back to make love to the daring Rafiq Malik." Malik rolled his eyes and laughed softly, "Well you did ask."

"I'd much rather be at your side than alone here. What about when you are sent off to Damascus? Acre? I'd be all alone."

"Yeah, I suppose. Well, things are not going to change anyway. We're going to grow old together. We'll be the best assassins there are. I'll become a master, you a teacher of the swords. Things will be perfect." Malik smiled and nodded his head. Oh how he wished that that dream would come true. He walked to the entrance and climbed up, Altair following him as they walked to the edge of the building, "You are happy, right?"

"Happy? Why wouldn't I be?"

"I never want to see you sad or in pain. I want you to be happy all the time. If you are ever not, I want you to tell me. Promise me?"

"I don't need to promise you something when I know that just being with you makes me happy," Malik lurched forward, jumping across the alleyway and starting towards the gates.

Altair frowned and shook his head. That was not what he wanted to hear. He jumped over the gap and headed in the direction of the gates, following his partner, staring at his back. They stopped a little ways from the gate, jumping down and sitting on a bench, waiting. They waited a few minutes before Altair stood, rushing into a group of scholars that were heading out of the city. Malik soon followed, pressing his hands together in prayer as they passed the guards unnoticed.

When they reached the stables, they slipped inside, took a moment to find which horses were theirs, then mounted them, racing out, and away from the city. It had only been about a month and a half, but it felt like years since they laid eyes on their home. The raced into the day and well into the night before Malik told them to pull over. Altair's head was drooping, his movements slow. "We're stopping for the night, you're tired."

"I'm fine," Altair argued, reluctantly getting off his horse, after watching the other dismount his own. "I can last a bit longer," he grumbled, not moving as Malik pulled out blankets from their bags. He sighed and walked over to him as the other gestured with his hand to come over to him, and laid down next to him, leaning his head against his shoulder, "Only a short nap then."

The younger teen nodded his head, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and smiling at how fast the other fell asleep. It made sense as to why he was so tired. Malik had slept, even though it was not for very long, but Altair had not. Not since the night before they killed Claude. The memory was starting to creep back up on him, making him bite his lip, trying not to let his emotions show. The first person he ever took the life of, and it was not even for the Creed. He wondered briefly if Altair had acted this way after his first kill, but didn't dwell on it, clearing his mind of any thoughts, not really wanting to even think about anything.

He tilted his head to the side, looking at the other, gazing at his features. He was going to be eighteen next year, his partner was an adult, and his face showed it. He no longer had the roundness that a child had in his face, but a more defined, masculine bone structure. He reached out tracing his lips with his fingers, stopping before he reached the cut that was still red from the freshness of the wound. It would be a reminder every time that he looked upon his partner's face at how close he could have been to losing him. He laid his head against Altair's and let out a soft sigh, closing his own eyes. Even if it was going to be a short nap like the other had stated, he might as well get some sleep as well.

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><p>The trip to Masyaf was rather uneventful. They made it back home faster than they normally would by skipping their last night, and trekking on instead of resting. As soon as they arrived, they knew how tired they were from traveling, but ignored the fatigue by heading to Al Mualim first. Upon entering his sight, the master assassin turned and smiled at them, walking over with his arms held out.<p>

"My boys, you have done well. Our brother has told me of your success, Claude La Pierre and Isam Rasheef? Two horrible men that no longer can cause any harm or distress." The old man patted their shoulders, smiling wider as they both smiled up at him.

"Sir, I do have to ask you something," Altair said softly.

"Ask and I shall answer."

"Isam told us something, something that which unsettles me."

"He told you that I had murdered your mother, did he not?"

"Yes, how did you-?"

"He tried to sell the same story to your father. Umar was a smarter man then that, and did not believe him. I believe that Isam was living a double life, trying to live with both the assassins and the Templars, and in turn drove him to madness since he did not know which he should trust. I do not know how long he had been living the double life, or when it began, all I do know is that he had no control on his own values or beliefs and blindly followed causes that were set up in front of him."

The explanation troubled Altair. As they walked to their room for the first time in over a month, he showed no joy in where they were at, or showed any happiness about anything. They walked into their dorm, and over to their respective beds, Altair laying down instantly, the younger teen sitting down and looking to him. "What's the matter?" he dared to ask after a few minutes of silence.

"It's unnerving," he replied softly, opening his eyes and looking over to him, "Why do I get the feeling that Al Mualim is the one lying?" Malik did not have an answer for the other. How could he really? He had been having the same feelings, but did not know how to express it more than that. He stood and walked over to the other, laying down next to him, facing him so he could press his forehead to his.

"Isam is dead, either way. If we voice out that we are feeling this way about our master we might not be able to stay here much longer. We have to continue to trust and believe that he is telling the truth." Altair's lips thinned as he looked off to the side, "I know you do not like it, I do not either, but we have to think of what is best for us. Is it the truth? Or do we live obliviously?"

"I suppose," Altair breathed out after a few minutes, "We can just shove our thoughts aside and move on. This mission was more trouble than I had wanted…" he grumbled, allowing his eyes to close once again.

"Just sleep for now, Altair. We're running on little rest, it's better to think when your mind is not so cluttered and fatigued."

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><p>Malik looked up from the book and noticed that the other was still looking at him. It wasn't that he didn't like the other doing so, but the fact that he hadn't looked away during all that time made him a little uncomfortable. As if sensing this, Altair turned over, laying on his back and closing his eyes.<p>

Wanting to do something to catch the other off guard, the Rafiq smirked and stood up, placing the book off to the side, and walked over to the foot of his bed. He knew the other wasn't paying any attention, making it all the more fun as he got on his knees on the bed, and crawled forward between his legs and laid down against him.

"Um... Mal? What're you doing?" Altair asked, his voice almost sounding strained as he stared down at the man who had his head on his chest.

"Resting," the other responded as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"You're on top of me."

"I can get off if you really hate it that badly," the Rafiq made to get up, but was pulled back down, the assassin wrapping his legs around him to keep him pinned down. "I thought you didn't want me on top of you," he smirked.

"Who said that?" Altair scoffed, reaching down to pull him up more so that they were eye to eye, "I like you right where you are. Now, can I read what you've written?"

"Use your imagination instead," Malik responded, looking away.

"My imagination is more than likely incorrect," the Rafiq turned his eyes back to the assassin and blushed his eyes narrowing, "You're an idiot."

"I said nothing."

"You're a pervert, let me go," he struggled to get up, the other man not letting him, his legs still wrapped around him.

"Did I admit what I was thinking?"

"You are easy to read..." he scowled giving up his struggle, and continued to glare down at the other.

"I was just thinking about you writing a story about a mysterious assassin who cannot show his love by day, but at night ravishes him-"

"You're a pervert," Malik repeated, lightly hitting against his chest, "Now can I get up?"

"I'm comfortable."

"I'm not." Malik was beginning to regret trying to startle the other. He gasped as he felt a pair of hands grasping at his backside and hit him again, a bit harder then before as he struggled, "Let me go," he repeated. As soon as the other's legs removed from around him, he was up and turning to get away. Immediately he was pulled back so that his back was against the other's chest, his eyes fixed on the ground by the door on the opposite side of the room.

Altair sat up, pulling the other to sit in his lap, biting against his neck, making Malik emit regretful moans as he clenched his fist. Why was this man able to tease him so much like this? He gulped as he felt hands snake down his chest, and pull up his robes. What could he do? Stop him? He didn't honestly want to. It had been months. Way to long. As he felt a hand cup his groin he huffed, lowering his head as he closed his eyes tightly.

"You don't seem to want to be let go now," Altair purred in his ear, the Rafiq turning his head to glare at him again. Chuckling, the man started to rub at the slowly growing bulge making him groan, pressing back against him, panting very softly. "Can I?"

"Just do it," Malik snapped, looking down as he felt the rim of his pants being pulled at, a hand reaching inside, making his hips buck up in anticipation. What was making him act this way? All his senses were gone. It was as if he was a virgin all over again, every caress of the man's hand against him sent him off the edge his mind clouding over.

Fingers wrapped around him, the other hand pushing down on the pants to reveal just how big Malik really was, shocking even him. Altair's first strokes were soft, almost teasing, making the other buck up and pant wanting more, but not wanting to beg for it. He pulled him up slightly so he would not slip, lifting his knees so he was held up properly. As soon as he was put in this position, Altair started to move his hand more quickly, reaching down with his free hand and massaging at his inner thigh as he did so.

Malik threw his head back, groaning out as he clung to the blanket below as best as he could. It had been to long for him, his body felt as if it was on fire. Every stroke sent him closer and closer to the edge, as he panted, moaning out, his hips bucking upward against his hand giving him the hint to go faster. Altair complied, speeding up, making the other arch his back slightly, moaning out.

"Altair..." he groaned out his name, tilting his head to the side, hiding his face against Altair's , "Altair..." he repeated, "I'm... ahh..." he couldn't manage to form out the words, the pleasure building as Altair reached lower, stroking over his lover's opening. He reached around Altair's head with his arm, grasping at his hair, his breathing erratic as he knew he was growing closer and closer.

"Malik," he heard the other groan, leaning his head down to kiss at his neck, not pausing or making the pace any slower.

"I... Altair... I'm-" his warning was to late as he arched his back further, moaning out, his fist clenched around his hair as he reached his peak. As he fell down from the high he was feeling, he panted, closing his legs and rolling to his side, curled up against Altair. "Stupid novice," he grumbled, placing his hand to his cheek, turning his face to face him. He leaned up, kissing him gently then pulled back, staring up into the eyes of the man he loved. "I love you, Altair," he whispered, the other smiling wide as he held him close. It had been to long since he said those words. They were as true as the first day he allowed them to pass his lips, but they also scared him. He was beginning to feel all the emotions and feelings of the past for the third time in his life, and he only dreaded that this would lead to his betrayal once again.

Did he have to guard himself? He bit his lip and closed his eyes. He certainly hoped he didn't have to. He wouldn't know what to do if the other hurt him again. He felt the other pulling up his pants again, not bothering to open his eyes. Altair did sweet things like this, and he knew he didn't have to look to know that he was looking down at him with those caring eyes. "Do you want to go write more?" he heard the other whisper in his ear.

"No.. I'm fine right here," he opened his eyes and looked up at the other, who smiled. "When are you leaving?" he question.

"After Maria gives birth. I may not love her like I love you, but it would be heartless not to be there for the birth of my child."

"It's hard to believe you're going to be a father."

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited."

"I guess there is some good from all of this after all." He suddenly felt rather tired, yawning softly as he nuzzled his cheek against Altair's chest, "Would you mind if I slept?" he questioned softly, not really wanting to leave the arms of his assassin.

"You shouldn't have to ask. Of course you can sleep." Nodding his head Malik re-closed his eyes and cleared his mind. Once again he felt safe. For how long that safe feeling was going to last, he did not know. At this point he didn't care. As he drifted off to sleep, Altair stroked his hair, staring down at him, lovingly. "Sleep well my daring Rafiq," was the last thing that he heard before sleep completely engulfed him.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>I make the older pair banter a bit to much .-. But it's so fun D: Since I denied you all of younger Alty and Mal's lemon because of Malik's shyness, I repaid it with a little of the older two :D<p>

I felt like a dirty pervert writing this though OTL... in an airport, in a corner, looking around to make sure no one was noticing me. Gahhh xD

Hope you liked the chapter, please review to let me know~ You know how much I love to hear from you guys~~

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>dippychick16:<span>_ I hope you liked the banter in this chapter aswell! It's really all to fun to have the two go at it xD

_elliina:_ I know the feeling all to much. I'm in college for criminal justice, and I'd much rather be writing or reading then writing a paper any day xD.


	15. Chapter 15

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 15

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><p>Malik awoke to an empty room, not something he really liked doing especially after what happened the night before. He grumbled, standing up and stretching upward, rotating his arm as he looked out the window. He was a bit surprised and glad to see that the sun was just rising. His stomach gave a soft growl, making him sigh and walk out of the room. He hadn't realized till now how much of a reclusive introvert he had become. He enjoyed being holed up in his room to write, much like he enjoyed being holed up in the Bureau to draw out maps. The more he thought about it, the more depressed he grew over the matter.<p>

He walked down and out of the tower, following the smell of whatever food was being cooked up. There were more novices today, at least he did not notice as many the day before when he got dinner. Where had they all come from? He stood looking below at the courtyard, as if expecting an answer to pop up. Of course, after a moment of glancing around, he received no answer, so walked down to get his food rather than sit around and people watch. After getting his porridge, he walked over to a pile of hay that was in the same spot that Altair and him use to sit and eat together, and sat down, placing the bowl in his lap, stirring it.

"It's good to see old habit's don't change," his head shot back, his lips widening to a smile as he set his porridge to the side, standing quickly and pulling Majid into a hug. "How have you been Malik? It's been a few years."

"As well as expected I suppose. How have you been?"

"Busy. Took a group of novices on a bit of an adventure last week. Just returned today." That explained why there were so many new faces around. "They do not understand what really happened to Al Mualim. It's to be expected since they are all around ten and more interested in the flashiness of the weapons they carry, but I can't help but feel that they should try to understand."

"The problem with that is most novices are much like Kadar was. Oblivious at first, and not wanting to really grow up so fast."

"Unlike you, one of the few who took life by the reigns and moved forward the moment you became an assassin."

"Do you miss it?"

Majid raised a brow, sitting back in the hay along with Malik, who brought his bowl back to his lap, "what do you mean?"

"Do you miss the rush of being an assassin? Is being a teacher really right for you?"

Majid laughed softly and smiled, his eyes twinkling, "I'm old Malik. Teaching is all I really can do."

"You are only over fifty." Majid simply grinned and turned his attention back to the novices who were eating and playing around.

"*Tazim!" Majid said suddenly, a small boy around the age of four stopped immediately what he was doing and rushed over to him. Malik was a bit shocked at how much this boy looked like Kadar. He looked him over curiously, looking to Majid curiously. "Tazim, I want you to meet Malik. He is your uncle."

"Uncle?" Malik asked blinking, his eyes widening.

"Didn't know your brother had a wife and a child, did you?" he grinned and patted Tazim on the head, who turned and rushed off to the side to rejoin his friends. "Kadar was more grown up then you thought. He was married while you and Altair were on a mission. He was one when Kadar was killed. His mother died of disease a year ago after she came to us from Damascus. Some of the brothers knew about her and Tazim from Kadar before the incident, so it was no question about if she was telling the truth or not. He apparently thought you'd be upset with him for marrying and having children before you, so he kept it a secret from us. It's a miracle that we were even able to find out."

"So you are raising him then?"

"For now. Honestly, I thought you'd be better suited of it. You are, whether you admit it or not, good with kids. It would also be good for you. You've gone from an assassin to an artist. Art is a good hobby, but it's always good to get out every so often." He stood up and stretched, smiling, "Think about it, won't you? You're twenty eight, much more suited to raise a child then an old man like me."

Malik was about to argue against the age factor, but was cut off by someone sitting next to him. He grimaced almost immediately as Abbas smiled at him, holding his own bowl of food, "Good morning, Malik."

"Good Morning, Abbas. How can I help you?" he asked, shoving a spoonful of his porridge in his mouth, glaring at the floor.

"Just wanted to sit next to you and see how you are doing... How's your arm?"

"It's a three year old wound Abbas, I don't think it needs to be asked about," Malik sneered, setting his bowl down and glaring at him. "I do not wish to talk about it."

"You've forgiven Altair for the deaths he caused and your wound then?"

"It's not any of your business for one thing," Malik stood and leaned over picking up the bowl, "But yes. I have." He turned without another word, dropping his unfinished bowl on the stack of bowls to be cleaned later. He knew it was a waste, but he was too angry to eat anymore. Abbas had a way of making him angry, he always had.

He stalked back up to his room, thoughts of the possibility of raising a child, mixed with what was going to happen in the future flooded his mind. As he sat down on his cot he didn't bother to pick up the book right away like he had grown to do. He sat there for nearly an hour before he even touched the book, but instead of writing in it, he flipped through the many pages he had already written. In all sense of how much had happened in his life, he hadn't really written all that much. He was a twenty eight year old man, and had so much more life to live out. He grinned as he thought through of what he should call this small memoir of his life, but shrugged it off as he reached out and grabbed his quill and ink from the side table. He dipped it in the ink after flipping to where he left off, and slowly lowered it, beginning to write once again.

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><p>The next few days went by slowly, and rather dully. Nothing of interest ever happened after a mission that lasted longer than a week. Tamir, Majid and Kadar threw Malik a small happy birthday celebration (that simply consisted of some sweet cake-like food and a sweet drink that Majid had said was from France). It wasn't anything big, which was good for the teen, who did not really like celebrating his birthday at all.<p>

Altair was not seen much, having being forced into teaching Abbas some assassination techniques. Every night he would come back to the room, annoyed, and practically fuming with the anger that showed on his face. By the fourth night, Malik dared to ask him why he was so angry and received a long rant of an answer that consisted of: "He can't balance, he can't use a sword right, he runs to slow, and he has the nerve to tell me I am wrong when I tell him he's doing everything wrong. It's the same thing every day. I'm trying to help the idiot, and what do I get for doing that? A slap on the wrist. Al Mualim thinks I am being too hard on him. He's seventeen years old and has the same mindset as a novice who just entered our walls! He's horrible! Why can't I just rest and relax? I'd take the at home duties if I have to!"

It went on and on for about an hour before their door opened, Kadar slipping inside. He didn't pay attention to Malik's partner's ranting, nor the curious glance of his brother as he sat down next to him on his cot. Altair stopped, fell back against his bed, and sighed exasperatedly, pulling his legs up so he could yank his shoes off.

"Altair, I had a question, but I didn't want to interrupt you," Kadar stated, sitting straighter and looking brightly to the annoyed assassin on the other side of the room.

"What's that?" Altair asked, pulling off his second shoe and tossing it off to the side, not bothering to turn his head and look to his partner's younger brother.

"Do you think you could teach me how to keep my balance on the ropes behind the castle?" he asked, suddenly growing timid as he lowered his head.

"Why not ask Malik to help you?" he asked, putting his hand to his forehead, and rubbing it.

"It's because it's you," Malik cut in, the other assassin finally turning his head to look back at him curiously. "You're his idol, Altair, plus it'd give you a break from Abbas?"

He considered it a moment, then nodded his head, turning it to the ceiling once more, and closed his eyes, "Fine, but give me a day, tomorrow's the first day off I've had from that useless prick, I would like at least one day of sleep."

Kadar smiled brightly, thanked him, and rushed out of the room in a hurry, no doubt telling his friends that Altair would be helping him. Malik grinned and reached off to the side, pulling a scroll from it's hiding spot between the side table and his cot. He opened a drawer, pulling out a quill and ink, setting it off to the side as he unrolled the large parchment. He dipped the feather carefully in the ink, then sat up, reaching out and beginning to draw. It started out as a few lines, but grew more and more till they started to make out a bit like a map. Curious, Altair stood, walked over to him, and carefully slid next to him, to watch him.

"It's Jerusalem, is it not?" Altair asked, Malik jumping slightly, indicating that he had not even noticed the other next to him.

"I, uh..." he looked to his partner a moment, then back to the paper, "Yes."

"You really like the city, don't you?"

"It reminds me of Acre, only vastly different in many ways. I'd like to go back."

Altair nodded, the two both looking to the door as it opened. Al Mualim walked in, paused as he saw their close proximity, then down at the map that Malik was drawing out. "You have a gift Malik, maybe someday we could use you for mapping out cities for our brothers," he stated, stepping closer as Altair stood to get up.

"How can we help you sir?" Malik asked, not really knowing how to take the compliment.

"Just Altair, I have a request."

"Anything, sir," Altair stated, looking to him curiously, hoping he was going to be changing his duties to get away from Abbas.

"I need you to go along with Tamir and Majid on their next mission next week. They need a third companion for insurance that they will have a good set of numbers. You will be going to Spain where you will do whatever they say. They will choose whether or not to inform you on any more details and when."

Altair frowned, "That could take months," he stated, the old man nodding his head. Malik's lips thinned. He didn't like this. Three people he cared for would be gone. Al Mualim gave Altair a smile, then turned to leave as he heard the older teen say "Yes sir," softly.

As the door shut, Malik's head automatically snapped to look at Altair, who rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index fingers. What could be said? The two knew Altair couldn't say no. What would he say if he could? He grinned slightly to his partner, turned and laid back down on his own cot, his back turned away from the rest of the room.

"At least," Malik started, "You'll be with Tamir and Majid." He couldn't honestly say if his words were for Altair or himself. Was there some fate out there that didn't want them to be around each other? If there was or not, he honestly did not know. All he knew was that he was quite possibly looking at a year away from the teenager he loved, his uncle, and a man he grew to look up to and admire.

"I feel bad," Altair stated after a long silence.

"And why is that?"

"Kadar, I told him I'd help him out."

"It's unfortunate, but I do not think Al Mualim would let you off of the mission if you came to him with that reasoning."

Altair grinned, "Oh Master, you know how much he looks up to me, just this once? Please?" he asked, hopping on his knees and folding his hands together, his face pouted out to make the best puppydog face he could muster.

"Oh yeah, that'd definitely work," Malik teased, his partner flopping backwards and laughing softly.

"I wish."

As the next week came, Malik didn't realize how much he really did want Altair to beg to stay. As they were being shaken awake by the two older assassin's they were given a few minutes for Altair to get dressed and for the two to say goodbye. Malik had already said his goodbyes to the two the night before, but he couldn't manage to say it to his assassin.

They stood, facing each other, Malik still in his sleeping clothes, and Altair fully dressed and ready with his bag slung on his back. They stared at each other, Altair hiding his emotions much better than the other, who's eyes shook with a sad emotion.

"It'll pass by fast," Altair said, breaking the silence, and Malik's confidence all in one.

"I'm going to miss you," the younger whispered, sighing as he was pulled into Altair's arms. They stayed like that for a moment, before the older assassin tilted the younger's chin upward, bringing their lips together. They had never shared such a simple yet complicated kiss before. Altair's hands clung to Malik's robes, Malik's hands gripped Altair's shoulders as they refused to pull apart.

A light cough was heard from the doorway, making the two pull apart, Altair looking back at Tamir and Majid who looked to them sympathetically. "It's time to leave," Tamir stated, the younger nodding as the two older assassins turned and headed out of the room once more.

"I'll work hard and try my best to get home quickly."

"Just be safe," Malik shook his head, leaning up to kiss him once more, then pull back, "You don't want to keep them waiting," he grimly smiled.

Altair nodded, smiling back at him, then turned and headed out of the room, not closing the door behind him as he left. Malik stared at the door for minutes that seemed like hours, before his legs had him racing out of the dorm tower and running out of the Masyaf castle. He heard someone calling out for him, but he ignored it, racing to a cliff and diving down into a pile of hay**, tumbling out almost instantly and racing down a hill, dodging people as he ran down into the city. He ran past the horses and out of the gates climbing the small hill as fast as he could and stopped, panting as he stared down the road at the three horses walking away.

Footsteps came up behind him as his brother slumped forward, his palms pressed to his knees as he panted heavily, "Al Mualim...wants to see you, brother," he stated, standing upright and looking ahead to where he was looking. The older brother only nodded, not taking his eyes off of the three until he could no longer see them. He did not know how long they stood there, nor did he take in the looks of sadness that his brother was giving him from the side. All he knew was that there was some sort of pain in his chest, and he wanted it to go away or kill him already.

They stood there for a while, till Kadar finally lost patience and took his brother's arm, pulling him back to the city. They took some time to make it back up to the castle, which Malik appreciated since he did not really feel like facing the man who sent off his family on a long mission. As he climbed up the hill, he couldn't help but glare at the dirt below his feet. What was he going to do without his partner? Was Al Mualim doing this to split them up? Did he catch onto their feelings even though they hadn't really done much at all? He bit onto his thumb as they approached the castle gates, suddenly finding himself a bit nervous. What was he going to say?

He glanced to the side at his brother, who didn't seem to have a care in the world other than the fact that his two favorite elder assassins were now gone. He stared up at the sky, a grin on his lips as he let out a silent sigh and turned his gaze to Malik once again. The smile immediately left as he furrowed his brows together and stopped.

"They'll be back soon Malik. I'm sure Al Mualim is going to give you some mission to do in the mean time," he reassured him, re-smiling as he started to walk again.

Malik certainly hoped so...

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>*Tazim in the actual storygame/etc is Malik's son. But seeing as in this story that would be a bit hard since he is so dedicated to his feelings for Altair, I doubt he'd cheat even if he was mad at him. I thought hard on how to implement him, and I thought it would be a bit touching if he was actually Kadar's secret son instead. I hope others feel the same! Dx

**If you know what hay pile i'm talking about... I always went this route in AC1. I never took the road. Pfft. Roads... Who needs em D:

I apologize for the slow update. For people who checked my DA, you already know, but for those who didn't see I've been having a bit of writers block for my other story and was attempting to get a chapter in for it before this one. That. Failed. Miserably. So, I am really sorry for the unnecessarily long wait you guys had to put up with.

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Dredonis<span>_: Thank you kindly :D, I am glad you are enjoying them :)

_Summier_: Thank you so much for your review :) It really makes me glad that you like the story. And I try to put passion in them, they are such wonderful characters, I try to do them justice.

_Anonymous Review_: Dx yes the airport. I was so paranoid for no apparent reason OTL

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><p><strong>Thank you so much<strong> for the reviews, story alerts, and story favorites! They mean a lot :)

Please review, I know I say it in every chapter... But I really mean it. I cherish every little thing said. Even a simple one-worded review lets me know you guys like it, hate it, or whatever you're thinking.


	16. Chapter 16

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 16

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><p>Fear engulfed Malik as he trudged up the stairs to go see the master. Was he worrying for no reason? Probably. As he walked into view he stopped in front of the table, lowering his head as he watched the other turn around. Footsteps were heard coming to him, causing him to prepare himself to be hit or yelled at. "You wanted to see me master?" he asked, daring to look up, half surprised to see the man smiling and nodding to him.<p>

"There's a reason I did not send you with them. At first I thought it would be better to send both you and Altair along, but a perfect opportunity arose for you and your brother," he paused and gestured his finger for Kadar to come over from his hiding spot behind a bookshelf. The boy rushed over, his cheeks tinted red from embarrassment from being caught. "You are quite enabled in using a blade, correct?" he asked, Malik nodding his head. "And how about your tongue. Do you feel you are quite able to talk someone into doing something?"

The older brother raised a brow looking confused, "I don't understand, sir."

"There is a man by the name of Muti Al Ra'uf, he's a bit older then you two, but he left the creed recently. He's a very valuable assassin and was on his way to being a master in no time. I want you to go to Acre and find him. You both know the streets well, which is why I have chosen you both. Find him and question him why he left, and see if you can bring him back."

"Yes sir, when do you wish for us to depart?" Malik questioned.

"Tomorrow if possible." The older brother turned his attention to Kadar who nodded and smiled. "Excellent, take today to prepare. Set Kadar up with a new blade. It's always best to be prepared for the worst."

Malik led Kadar to the same place he was led to years ago by Altair. It seemed like just yesterday that the two of them were just starting to become friends. He walked over to a rack of swords, picking one up and holding it out. Not satisfied with it, he went through three more before he handed it over to his brother. The younger sibling graciously took the blade and held it out, smiling to his brother.

"I've gotten much better than you last saw me," he bragged, sheathing the blade and tying it around his waist, "I bet I could beat you."

Malik scoffed, "I think the day you beat me I'll eat my boots," he teased; grinning as the younger brother scrunched his nose and pouted, glancing to the side. "At least," he began again, turning to head out of the room, "We have each other still, right?"

Kadar walked forward, standing at his brother's side, "We haven't gone home since Tamir caught you stealing, either," he grinned, "I wonder if our house is still there."

"We can look and see while we are there."

The sudden thought of having something to do other than hunt down this run away assassin was giving Malik something to look forward to. He'd have to make sure to do a lot in the length of time that Altair, Tamir, and Majid were gone, that way they wouldn't be the only ones with stories to tell.

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><p>Malik glanced up from his book and blinked as little Tazim walked in, holding a wooden sword behind his back timidly. He looked down at his feet, lightly kicking the floor with his right foot much like Kadar did when he was avoiding asking anything.<p>

"What's the matter Tazim?" he asked, finally giving into the boy's timid looks.

"Would you teach me how to hold a sword right?" the boy asked, stepping a little more forward, holding the wooden blade out to him.

The Rafiq smiled and set the book off to the side, standing up, then kneeling down and taking the sword, "Of course I will. Let's go somewhere special and I'll teach you, okay?" he stood and was a little shocked as the boy reached up, begging to be held. He handed the boy the sword once again, then scooped him up with his one arm.

He walked out of the tower and headed over to the tower him and Altair hung out in when they were younger. He carried him up the flights of stairs, setting him down to open the door and step out, closing it behind them as the boy followed him. He turned to him, and smiled, kneeling down once again, "Hold out the blade," he instructed, the boy pointing it outward and looking to Malik curiously. "Okay, here," he took a hold of his arm and put it in position, "Then space your feet," he helped move them in position as well, "Good, good."

Malik blinked and looked up as the door behind them opened up. He gave a soft smile to his uncle, who smiled in their direction, closing the door and sitting down against the wall. "Uncle Malik is teaching me to hold a sword," the boy said, looking as innocent as his father as he smiled excitedly, "I'll be at the top of my class!"

"Seems like you take more after your uncle then your father," Majid chuckled, Malik grinning softly as he allowed himself to fall back and sit down, the boy lowering his blade and tilt his head to the side.

"What's your favorite food?" Malik asked curiously.

"Fruit."

"Do you like the idea of being an assassin?"

"I want to be as strong as Uncle Majid and Master Altair," he stated confidently, Malik smiling wider. "You were strong once before, right? Altair said you were strong, one of the best." Malik blinked, and grimaced slightly.

"He was. He was on his way to becoming a master assassin himself," Majid cut in, the boy staring in awe at Malik.

"How did you lose your arm?" he asked, scooting over to him and reaching out touching the stump hidden by clothes.

Malik hesitated for a moment. The only one that had ever touched him there since the doctors was Altair. "Well it happens sometimes," he started, "When you are trying your hardest to protect the people you love, sometimes you get hurt and sometimes you have to lose things like limbs while you are protecting those people." Of course he was talking about the boy's father, not that he would state that outright. He glanced upward at Majid who was smiling grimly.

"I think that's enough out of Uncle Malik for now," the older assassin smiled and scooped the boy up in his arms. "It's time for little novice's to take naps anyway," he chuckled as the boy groaned and looked back at Malik pleadingly. The Rafiq smiled at him and waved a bit, feeling a bit guilty for just letting the boy go, but didn't say more. He let out a soft sigh after a few miutes, hoisting himself back up to his feet, and heading down the stairs, going back to his room.

Remembering the time without Altair was painful. Almost as painful as the time he betrayed him. As he entered the room, he stared at Altair's old bed and let out a sigh, walking over to his own bed and sitting down. He took a hold of his book, opened it, and immediately started to write once more, wanting to get the feelings he was feeling out of his mind.

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><p>The mission to find Muti Al Ra'uf was a failure. The boys spent a month searching the city for him, relying on the vague information the Rafiq had for them, only leaving the boys feeling frustrated and annoyed. Fourteen days out of the month they spent in the alleyway that they use to call home not wanting to bother with the man back in the bureau. All those years ago they longed for a roof over their heads and a nice cushion to lay against, and yet now they preferred to live like they use to just to stay away from the old man.<p>

Malik couldn't tell his brother why the Rafiq made him so angry (since Kadar kept saying sentences like: "It's not his fault he doesn't know anything about him" and such), but the younger had a good idea as to why he was letting his temper go. It was the first mission he'd gone on without Altair. Every single mission before that when he was with him they at least produced results. This mission was like finding a needle in a haystack, and the fact that no one knew of the runaway assassin at all just made it all the more frustrating. On the morning of the new month, they entered the bureau, and were given a simple wave of the hand and told to go back to Masyaf.

The thing that made the older brother lose all control of his anger was that of the face of their master when they returned. He smiled, a wide toothy grin, his head quirked to the side as if he was expecting this to happen. Without waiting to be dismissed the boy turned and left, ignoring the command from Al Mualim to get back and face him. Malik was demoted twice for his lack of control over his anger, and left with castle duties for three months not being allowed to go out on field missions. It was something he knew he deserved, but would never admit it out loud.

If it wasn't for his brother dragging him out of his room every day, he'd probably had lost all the muscles he had in the first two months he was being punished in. He took the time he had with Altair for granted, and now that he did not have his partner he felt lost. He walked around the castle and the grounds much like a soulless being. It got even to the point where Abbas, the person that only cared about two things (the creed and himself), was worried.

"Malik, Al Mualim would like to see you," Abbas stated, his arms behind his back indicating that he knew something that Malik didn't. Suspicious of this, he raised a brow and dared to ask why. The boy shrugged and turned heading to the castle, the other following reluctantly.

They approached the master assassin, Malik straighter then Abbas, who bowed to the older man's back. It wasn't until the man turned did Malik lower his head in respect. "I'm glad you both are here," he stated, walking forward and smiling to them. "I have a task for you both. Since Abbas is without a partner, and you are until Altair returns I will be pairing you both up to go Nazareth where there is a man by the name of Cleon Hughes. He is a British Templar Captain who is in control of a cult of followers who abide his every wish. This would not normally be a concern of ours, except the man is starting to bring paranoia and doubt even to the assassins. This is spreading like a disease and must be put to a stop."

"May I ask... What is the paranoia about?" Malik asked, curiously.

"There is a rumor that there is a device that can bring about death to anyone as long as the owner of the device wishes it. He is bringing about a tale of the end of the human race as we know it stating that he has the device and he plans to wipe out everyone except those who follow him. I have confirmed that he does not have such a device and is relying on the word of mouth that his followers have been spreading."

"Could such a device exist?" Abbas asked, his eyes bulging as he stared at Al Mualim, clinging to his every word.

"I don't think a device like that could be created," the master shook his head.

"It's interesting how people can blindly follow something like that without proof of its existence," Malik said, shaking his head, "When do you want us to leave?"

"I would prefer if you leave by midday, it is a four days ride and I'd prefer this to be ended as soon as possible. It will take some time to track him down and to even find the right time to strike."

"Understood," Abbas cut in, bowing his head as the master dismissed them. "We will meet at the horses in an hours' time, yes?"

Malik didn't like taking orders, and although this wasn't exactly an order, his tone bothered him. He nodded and turned his back to him, heading back to their dorm tower to pack a few things. He didn't need an hour, ten minutes to pack and that was all he needed. He walked down into a courtyard and motioned for his brother to come over. When Kadar reached him he smiled and pulled him into a hug, "Al Mualim is sending me to Nazareth with Abbas," he stated, pulling back from the younger boy who nodded. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

Kadar nodded once again, "I'll be fine. I still have a few friends who aren't off on missions. Who knows, I might get sent on one too. Be safe brother," he put his hand on his shoulder and smiled, making the older smile as well.

By the time Malik reached the horses there was still thirty minutes left. He sat down on a bench, setting his bag down next to him and slouched, watching passing people go about their lives. Abbas showed up not to long after, and they departed much without any words being spoken. It wasn't that Malik didn't like the other, he just felt watched and awkward whenever they were around each other.

The four day trek was uneventful and very quiet. Nothing much was said, nor did Malik ever try to keep a conversation. Abbas tried every so often to say one thing or another, but despite all his attempts, the other would not say anything, simply nodded or shook his head. The first thing that was said as they entered the large city was something they should have thought about before leaving Masyaf.

"Is there a Rafiq here?" Malik questioned, walking over to a wall and climbing up it.

Abbas followed and stood at his side at the top as they looked around, "I... thought you knew where one was," he answered, looking to the other who shook his head. "So we are on our own?"

"It would seem so..." Malik jumped across an alleyway, walking in the direction of a tower. "Let's get a better view of the city from overhead. Maybe we could spot a popular spot to find information in."

Once reaching the top the two assassins stared in awe at the size of the city. It wasn't necessarily big like Jerusalem or Damascus, but the layout was rather intimidating. "It's a maze," Abbas whispered, Malik nodding as he grimaced.

This was going to take much longer than he anticipated...

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>This chapter came out more like a filler chapter then intended. I'm sorry for that. The next chapter will be a bit more interesting than this, I promise. Also it will come out sooner than this one, since I was working on both at the same time (haha .-. )<p>

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>dippychick16<span>_: I'm glad you approve of the idea :D Originally I was going to leave him out, but then I thought about it and knew that I had to if I ever wanted to do some of the ideas I have floating around in my head. Rather be safe than sorry!

_Jay Leo Bird_: I suppose earlier on in the brothers life that would be true, but with the way things are with Malik clinging to Altair I thought that Kadar having a secret like that would be rather reasonable D:

_eliina_: Haha, that reminds me of when I was playing Assassin's Creed Revelations for the first time. My hate was so much for Al Mualim that instead of saving him I ran over and stabbed him. The desync was so worth it.

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><p>Thank you all so much for the reviews, story faves and story alerts! I hope you all continue to like the story, and please I do ask if you could keep on reviewing. They keep me going on with the knowledge that you are liking it or not :)<p> 


	17. Chapter 17

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 17

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><p>Malik and Abbas started off their mission like they would anywhere else. They observed and watching the crowds of the most crowded places in Nazareth. The problem was they didn't know who to trust. Who could they ask for any information on this Cleon Hughes fellow? Malik scanned the crowd watching as people haggled for items and food, as they laughed and smiled, even some who were fighting. It seemed like a well off town, but who was trustworthy? Simply watching as they had been for two weeks was not getting them anywhere.<p>

He stood and walked over to a man across the way who was sitting down on a bench alone. He took a seat and said nothing, choosing his words in his mind before he spoke. "Excuse me," he started at a normal, calm tone. The man turned his head to look at him, tilting his head to the side indicating his curiosity about the hooded teen next to him. "Do you know a man named Cleon Hughes?"

The man's eyes clouded over as he nodded his head, lowering it and sitting forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he sighed, "He's a terrible man. He only comes out of his tower every few weeks, but when he does it brings misfortune to everyone." He turned to look at Malik again, "Whatever it is you are interested in about that man... Forget it. Don't be interested." The man's head shot up as people started to scramble about, hurrying to get out of site. He stood and looked down at the teen again, "Leave this area. Hide. If Cleon spots you he will try to recruit you, if you object he will kill you," he warned turning and rushing to get out of the area along with everyone else.

Malik wasn't about to stick to the open when all the cover of the citizens was leaving before his eyes. He rushed to an alleyway, turned down it, and squeezed under a pile of boxes that he worked on earlier in the week. He was glad he took the time to make such places to hide since there were not many hay piles or bushes to hide in.

"Amazing how fast they run," he peeked through a crack to see a tall man with sandy brown hair and green eyes walking in the plaza. "It's a shame though. I really felt like killing today...oh," he walked off to the side and out of Malik's vision.

"No let me go!" he heard a woman cry out. Malik strained forward, trying hard to see what was going on. Cleon walked forward and threw a woman to the ground in front of the four soldiers that came with the captain. "Please! I didn't do anything wrong!"

"You did though. You are guilty of attacking a guard.. Right men?" the man grinned cruelly as the other Templars nodded their heads. The man pulled out a dagger and walked around her, pressing back against her back as he pressed it to her throat. She started to mumble a soft prayer before the man sliced, blood pouring from the wound as he stood and tossed her to the side. "It's a shame," he breathed out as he leaned down and removed the cover over her face, "She was rather pretty..."

Malik watched as they walked from the plaza, his brows furrowed. How could anyone kill another person like that? It was cruel. It wasn't right. He looked to the side as Abbas squeezed into the hiding spot, a disturbed look on his face. "I want that man dead," Malik whispered, the other nodding his head in agreement. They turned their attention back to the plaza as people started to come back out. A group of citizens took the woman's body, probably taking it to her family or to be properly buried.

It happened again like this a month later. The boys stayed in their hiding spot, Malik fuming at the fact that there were even more guards this time. They didn't know how to go about this. Did they want to rush in and kill him, risk losing their own lives? They watched as Cleon this time killed an old man, and then took to following him to a tower.

"The next time he leaves this tower... I'm going for it," Malik stated, Abbas's eyes widening at the statement.

"But you could die, are you sure you want to risk that?"

"What can we do, Abbas? He rarely leaves the tower, and he travels in groups when he does. It's been a month since he had last been out. Who knows how long it will be next time. We have to take a chance," he shook his head and walked back down the alleyway and sat down against a wall. "All we can do is wait..."

A month passed quickly. It had been nearly three months since they left Masyaf and although they hadn't gotten very far, they at least had something. They only had themselves to rely on, and that wasn't all that much to begin with. Abbas was a careless kid who only cared about his own skin. He stuck to the shadows but often made mistakes in the process. In the two and a half months they had been there Malik had learned how much he would never want to be partners with him again. He understood now why he had no partner.

But nothing was compared to what happened two weeks later. Rumors had been spreading across the city that Cleon was going to move out and go to another city that night. Mini celebrations went on the whole day, and when night came everyone went to sleep with hope in their minds. Malik and Abbas stuck to their alleyway staring at the gate that was alive with guards and soldiers going in and out. The gate was left open. They had a chance to get in if they wanted, but Malik snapped back at the idea and said they'd surely die. Abbas had another idea about it.

He raced forward slipping into the gate, Malik just barely missing his clothes as he reached out to stop him. What could he do? He looked about almost panicked, and ran forward, slipping into the gate and looking about, searching for the other. "Halt!" he froze as he heard the command, Abbas running past him and racing back out the gate. Malik followed him out, turning a corner and splitting off with Abbas. They lost their chance. As he heard Templars following behind him he didn't know what to think other than a string of curses for the stupidity of his temporary partner.

Malik skidded to a halt, jetting off to the side down another alleyway. He was going to die; He knew it. His heart pounded in his chest hard, threatening to jump out of his chest at any given moment. Where was Abbas now? Still running? He looked behind him, his stomach dropping: the Templars weren't after him anymore, which only meant they were after someone else... or they captured someone else.

He groaned and turned, back tracking in the direction he came from. He kept his pace at a jog, not daring to walk or run any faster. He didn't have a clue as to where he was either, which made the teenager all the more paranoid. They had been on this mission for three months. They gathered information, spied, and waited patiently for a moment to strike, only to amount to this.

He spied around a corner, seeing a group of three Templar soldiers conversing, their voices hushed as they looked around as if they expected someone to come. He heard footsteps behind him and ducked behind a barrel as three more Templars walked past him to the other group.

"They're gone," one of them said, the assassin peeking around the corner once again to watch their movements.

"Do you think they'll be back?" another asked, removing his helmet to reveal his scared expression.

"Not unless they-"

There was a crash, the sound of wood toppling over down the alleyway coming from behind Malik. He looked back, his eyes widening as Abbas struggled to get out from under the boards of wood that he tripped on. He raced over to him and pulled him out, knowing fully well that the footsteps of the guards were coming closer.

"Run!" Malik yelled pushing the other forward, just barely missing being grabbed himself as he started to once again sprint. This time he made sure the other stayed near him, grabbing at his robes to pull him forward if he started to lag behind. He turned down an alley, then another, finally coming to an open street, turning down it and hitting something and falling backwards into Abbas.

Dumbfounded for a moment, it was a few seconds till he came to reason realizing that it wasn't just a wall, crate, barrel, or cart he ran into. It was a person. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing at the hilt of his blade and unsheathing it, pointing the tip at the person he ran into. Metal clashed with metal as the man he was against swung his own sword to meet his. He took steps back as he fought off the strange man, lunging forward as he took a strike slicing at the man's shoulder and just barely nicking him. He heard the man curse, and blocked off his attack as he lunged to strike him back.

As he fought for his life one thing flashed into his mind: why wasn't his partner here helping him? Was he frozen in fear watching them? If he got out of this alive, he was going to kill him. "Abbas you idiot, help me!" he growled, pushing off the man and watching as he stumbled backwards and landed on his backside.

"Abbas?" his attacker asked, not getting up, and holding his hands up as Malik pointed his blade to his throat. "Malik is... that you?"

Malik froze. He knew that voice. Dropping his sword he strode forward, grabbing the front of the person's robes and pulling him out into the street and into the light. His heart fell as he gulped, letting go of his robes.

"Altair..." he whispered, falling to his knees and lowering his head.

"You've gotten even better, I could have died," the older boy teased, as Malik ran his hand through his own hair, his hood falling off.

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" Abbas finally choked out, emerging from his hiding spot in the shadows.

"I couldn't see very well in the dark. What about you? What if your partner had died because of your cowardice?" Altair knew he hit a nerve, smirking as the other boy looked to the side annoyed.

"Go check and see if the Templars are close," Malik ordered, Abbas nodding and starting the way they came, "And don't be clumsy and knock things over," he stated, watching as he left with his head lowered. Altair squatted down and smiled reaching out and placing his hand on his friend's cheek, "You've gotten taller," the younger teen noted.

"And you need to shave," he joked in return, standing up and helping him to his feet. "Why are you both here?" he questioned softly.

"We're here to kill Cleon Hughes, a British Templar captain who has been holed up here for three months. We almost had him tonight if not for Abbas..." he looked to the side narrowing his eyes, "He holds the creed so highly and yet breaks one of the tenants more often than not." He blinked, and looked back up to him, "I thought you were in Spain?"

"We were. It seems that you are after the man that we were led to. We were after a man named Adan Velasco who was serving under Cleon Hughes. He was sending his ideals and beliefs as far as Acre and Jerusalem all the way from Spain causing many people to start killing others out of paranoia. We did not realize it till much later that we were chasing a ghost. The man died a month before we even arrived in Spain. Cleon murdered him but kept up the appearance that he was alive but continued to spread his ideals about enjoying the chaos. We followed him here and have been gathering information about his whereabouts and what he is doing.

"We were planning to strike tonight till we split up after hearing a commotion," Altair grinned, "I'm glad to see that commotion was you."

They glanced to the side as Abbas came into view, "They gave up again," he stated, the older assassin nodding and giving them both a smile.

"Follow me then, we have a place we have been staying a little ways north."

The two followed the older assassin down the street. They climbed up a wall, traveling by the roof tops to avoid any guards who might still be searching the streets. They dropped down an alleyway, Altair leaning down to pull at what Malik originally thought was a sewer drain, and followed him down it. They walked down the tunnel till they came up to a lit hall and into a room with a desk and a man sitting at it writing. "Have Majid and Tamir returned yet?" the assassin asked, the Rafiq shaking his head and putting his quill down. "It seems that these two were after Cleon as well, it turned into a bit of a mess," he explained.

"I wasn't aware that there was a Rafiq in this city," Malik stated, rubbing the back of his head, "Al Mualim never told us."

"The master isn't aware of a lot of things, just the major cities that surround Masyaf," the man responded, giving them a kind smile, "Please, rest. I'm sure they will arrive soon." Abbas was the first to take the offer, sitting down and laying down against a cushion. As soon as his head hit the cushion he was out, making the Rafiq chuckle and go back to his writing.

"You were demoted?" Malik cringed, and nodded his head looking down to his one belt on his waste, shamefully. "Why?"

"I lost my temper," Malik answered, looking up, the other raising a brow no doubt shocked. "After you left Al Mualim sent Kadar and I on a mission in Acre. We failed it, and when we returned he didn't look surprised. I was under the impression that he set it up so we would fail. I didn't want to lose all control and yell at him, so I left and ignored his commands to stay in front of him. He demoted me twice and sentenced me to two months of duties around the castle. This was my first field mission since being demoted. I was hoping that if I did it right I would get my ranks back," he looked to the side feeling childish as he told the story.

"Al Mualim does that," the two looked to the side as Tamir walked in, hands on his waist, "He likes to take those who are successful and bring them to failure so they can taste what it is like. After the first time he did that to Majid and I we would find something to bring back to make him feel like the fool instead. If we couldn't find anything on our target within a week we'd find something in the area that benefited the creed and did it. It shouldn't have to amount to that, but the cruel fact of the matter is our master enjoys bringing others down. You just need to find a way around it."

He smiled letting his arms drop to his sides as Majid came up behind him his arms crossed, "The streets are crawling with Templars," he announced and blinked as his eyes laid on Malik.

"And I seem to know why," Tamir looked to his partner and chuckled.

"Malik.. Why are you here?"

"He's here to assassinate Cleon," Altair stated.

"Are you really?" Majid rubbed the back of his head after pulling his hood down, "Small world."

"We've probably missed our chance. There's no way to find him tonight, and he was going to be leaving," Tamir stated, leaning against a wall, "What exactly happened?"

Malik's eyes narrowed as he looked to the sleeping teen off to the side, "I told him not to go into the tower. We would have a good chance of surviving if we waited till the captain emerged. Instead he ran into the tower not expecting to be caught right away. I chased after him, hoping maybe I'd catch him before someone else, but they spotted us and we had to run."

Tamir and Majid shook their heads and looked at Abbas disappointed. Nothing more was said the rest of the night. Nothing needed to be. Altair and Malik stayed in a corner together, falling asleep against each other's shoulders. Malik was sure that Abbas was going to be punished when they returned to Masyaf. But he couldn't deny that he was disappointed. His chance to redeem himself and get promoted back to his previous rank was gone. All thanks to that idiotic excuse for an assassin.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>Yay Altair is back~ I'll be cutting back on the older Malik and Altair snips from now on. Maybe once every other one or two chapters. Simply because I don't want to reveal to much before it even happens in Malik's story.<p>

On another note... Is anyone else having problems with emails from ff .net? I've been getting extremely slow alerts from stories I'm watching not getting emails till 2-3 days after they've been posted. Curious if it's just me xD

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><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

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><p><em><span>dippychick16<span>_: Because Abbas is a (insert string of insults here) :D;? Well, things _did_ go wrong, but probably not as bad as what could have happened if they hadn't run into Altair. x3

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><p>Thanks again for all the story alerts and faves~ Please do review though, I'm curious as to what's going through your guy's minds Dx<p> 


	18. Chapter 18

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 18

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><p><strong>WARNING<strong>: There will be a explicit scene later on in this chapter. It's rather abrupt so if you see it and you don't want to read it do not carry on reading the chapter. I failed to warn about the last one and I'm still not sure if people didn't like it or not since regular reviewers did not put their input in it saying they hated or liked it. So, yeah, if you don't like it, don't read it. Simple as that. Thank you~

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><p>Altair's voice was soft and very far away. Malik rolled over and opened his eyes, his brows furrowing as he noticed his surroundings were different. He was in a hallway, a long dark and damp-feeling hallway with cobwebs and insects crawling about. He heard a whisper to the left, bringing himself to a stand as he staggered down the hall towards Altair's voice. Was he drunk? He certainly felt so as his legs kept refusing to work correctly causing the teen to grasp the wall for support.<p>

"Altair?" he called out, only to hear his own voice echo off the walls. A sudden feeling of fear engulfed him as he broke out into a run, tripping over six to seven steps as he forced his failing legs to go against their power. He didn't want to be here anymore. He needed to see his partner.

Stumbling to the floor he heard footsteps coming from behind him. He looked back, and gasped, his eyes widening at the scene before him. Abbas stood, his right arm dangling next to him, his hand holding something, his left hand holding what looked like a rather thick knife. He stepped closer, his face contorting into a wild, evil grin as his eyes widened. He tossed what he was holding forward, it bouncing off the floor and rolling in front of him, only to hit against his leg.

He dared to reach forward, turning over the object and jolting back at the site. Altair's face stared up at him, his eyes staring up at him lifeless and depressed. "You should have saved me..." the head whispered over and over till Malik couldn't take it anymore. He clutched his hands over his ears and started to yell out in an attempt to drown out the voice.

His eyes shot open as he felt hands shaking him. At seeing Abbas over him, he pushed him back ignoring the look of shock and confusion on the other's face, "Get away from me," Malik ordered, closing his eyes tight as he fought away tears that were threatening to pour.

"It was just a dream," he whispered to himself, opening his eyes as he felt arms encircle around his shoulders.

It wasn't that Malik was scared, nor that he was scared of Abbas. The fear that engulfed him as he stayed in Altair's arms was the fear of seeing the man he loved dead like that. Footsteps were heard down the hall making Malik turn to look as Tamir and Majid walked back into the open room.

"Cleon is dead," Majid announced, smirking and glancing at Tamir from the side of his eye who was looking rather smug. "We were taking a last minute check to make sure the man was really gone when Tamir spotted a suspicious man in a hood slinking across the rooftops..."

"They won't find him until they really look," Tamir informed, crossing his arms, "It'll give us some time to leave and head back home..."

At the mention of going home Abbas was once again on his feet, looking excited, "We're heading home?"

"As soon as you boys are ready-"

"Let's go," Abbas interrupted, heading out and back into the hallway.

Malik smirked letting go of Altair and slowly standing, helping his partner up and looking up at him. He hadn't realized the night before, but Altair had really grown taller in the months that they were apart.

"It's rather fortunate that we ran into you both," Tamir stated as they made their way down the hallway. "If it wasn't for all that commotion last night I'm sure that we would have had a tougher time killing the captain."

Tamir was just trying to lighten the situation. It was obvious by the way he kept looking back at Malik, as if he was expecting some sort of sign that Abbas was forgiven. But the fact of the matter was that he was not intending on forgiving him so easily. Yes, their target was dead, but he was foolish and could have gotten them both killed. It was simply luck that they were able to run into Altair instead of wandering around the rest of the night since they did not have proper shelter.

However, nothing was voiced out against him for how foolish he was. Malik knew that the other was going to be punished for his foolishness; he was only hoping that by their tale of what went on the master would see to rank Malik back up.

"You're almost a Novice again," Majid stated the night before they reached Masyaf. The other huffed and looked away, his uncle smiling and reaching out and patting his shoulder, "You'll gain your ranks back." He looked like he wanted to say or ask something more. His eyes shifted to Altair, who was laying by the fire sound asleep. "I have a question about Altair..."

Malik raised a brow, "What is it?"

The assassin reached up, rubbing his chin as he thought of how to put it. After a moment of silence he tilted his head and looked back to Malik once more, "Has he ever acted out before? I mean... Has he ever let his skill get to his head in the past?"

"He works swiftly and well. I've never seen his cockiness outside of teasing when we are talking... Why?"

The older winced and looked off to the side again, "It wasn't anything to really take notice of, but his overconfidence seemed... Possibly exceeding what it really should have been. It's one thing to be confident but it's another to just emit cockiness."

Malik didn't know what to say at that. That didn't sound like Altair at all. Was it possible that he changed? Or was it just that Malik had not noticed it? He shook his head and shrugged as he laid back. Altair wouldn't let his skill get to him like that. He followed the creed just as he had been all these years. Why would he stop now?

Ignoring the fear of Altair being a changed man in the months that they have been apart he drifted off to sleep...

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><p>Al Mualim's reaction to Abbas wasn't exactly how Malik had dreamed. The man listened to what both Tamir and Malik had to say only giving slight glances off to Abbas who was standing with his head lowered, twitching every so often at a cruel but true statement was made. His temporary partner almost felt bad about the situation, especially after receiving his ranks back and Abbas being demoted.<p>

But all of those sorry feelings were gone the moment Al Mualim dismissed them stating that Altair and Malik were once again partners. Although Malik was shining brightly with happiness he couldn't help but wonder if Altair was happy with him. While he was away he managed to be de-ranked. Did he think that the only reason he was ranked at all was because of him? No. He shook his head at the thought. Altair would never feel that way, and plus he knew that the other was only upset about being tricked. It wasn't as if he broke the creed or anything of the sort.

By the time they reached their room, Malik was lost in his own thoughts. He didn't even realize when Altair pulled him to his cot and laid down, holding him against him. Altair tried calling his name once... Then twice.. Then finally leaned over biting his neck softly making the other freeze and look at him with wide eyes.

"What're you doing?"

Altair smiled, "What is it that has your mind up in the clouds?"

"I've missed you."

"I'm here now. And it did not take as long as we anticipated. Tamir was sure it was going to take a couple years since we were in a foreign land."

"I don't think I could have handled another mission with Abbas. It's no wonder no one wants to stay his partner." Malik felt the feeling of Altair's hands running up and down his back through his robes. He knew that it was only an act of kindness, trying to ease the tension that Malik's body was giving off, but the more he concentrated on the feeling the more of an urge to kiss the other came across him.

"What was Spain like?" he asked, pulling his thoughts back to his own words, trying to de rail his thoughts as best as he could.

"Crowded. I had to stick to Tamir and Majid since I did not speak the language. I tried to go off on my own at one point but when one of the citizens talked to me and I couldn't say anything or do anything but wave my arms and try to communicate."

Malik grinned at the thought of Altair's arms flailing about, pointing at certain objects as he tried to tell a Spanish woman that he would like to buy something. He looked back at his partner and smiled wider making the other smile in return. Majid was wrong the night before. Altair hadn't changed a bit. He was just as calming, and the same person he was before. This person who was holding him was the same person who left all those months ago. He had to be.

There was a long silence of the two teens holding onto each other. Malik's mind felt at ease at the feeling of the other's fingers making lazy invisible lines and circles against his back. The feeling was back, this time his mind erupting with thoughts that he knew he was never going to avoid at this point.

"Oh, I forgot to greet Kadar," Malik made to get up feeling foolish of his thoughts and growing nervous of their close proximity because of them. Altair grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, wrapping his free arm around his neck and pulling his lips to meet his. The younger teen struggled for a moment, not really knowing the reason why, but quickly gave up as he gave into the soft lips under him.

Their kisses were desperate as Malik suddenly took the lead grabbing onto the front of Altair's robes and slid his tongue into the other's mouth, who greeted his with his own. He instinctively pulled back for a moment as Altair hastily pulled off the top of his robes pulling off the man under him's as well. His mind was blank. What was going on?

He dipped his head down biting against the other's neck, licking and kissing against his skin as he felt the other's hands exploring his chest. So many scars he didn't even know about or notice when they both were changing. Altair rolled them over, his kisses trailing down Malik's neck, licking and nipping as he made his way to his collar bone, where he began to leave marks.

What was happening to him? Malik's mind was completely gone. He felt the assassin's hands creep around his waist, slipping beneath the fabric to caress the cheeks of his rear end. A small grope was all it took for the smaller man to buck his hips forward, causing the other to chuckle lightly bringing Malik back into reality for a moment. His pants were quickly tossed to the side, kisses and marks being trailed on the smaller man's inner leg.

"Altair..." Malik whispered, his body quivering more and more from every kiss. He wanted something, but what? His body was reacting to everything the other was doing. It was proof enough for the younger that he wanted the other, but how did it work? Did Altair know?

Altair pulled himself back up, laying a small kiss on the other's lips. He brought his fingers to Malik's lips, slipping his index inside as he moved his head, kissing at Malik's ear lobe, his other hand grasping at Malik's hardening member and stroking, making him gasp and close his eyes. "Suck," he heard the other whisper, and as if he was under a spell he did as he was told. He ran his tongue against his finger, sucking it in, making the taller man freeze and look at Malik, his cheeks tinted pink.

He slowly pushed another finger in his mouth, allowing Malik to wet it as well, then pulled away, quickly replacing his fingers with his mouth, reaching below as he kissed him deeply. What Altair was going to do with those fingers were beyond him... until he felt the index prodding between the folds of his rear and caressing his hole. He let out a huff and furrowed his brows as he felt the finger invading his body. It didn't exactly feel bad per say, but the feeling was foreign.

"Is this alright?" Altair whispered, pulling his head back to look in Malik's eyes. All he could muster was a nod in reply, biting his lip as he felt the digit begin to move inside him. He felt a second finger enter inside, and began to feel a twinge of pain from the stretching movements the others was making with them.

A sudden jolt up Malik's spine made him arch his back and groan, his hands slapping over his mouth. Where the hell did that come from? His eyes widened as he stared up at Altair, who was looking down at him curiously. He felt the feeling again as his finger caressed against a spot inside him making his mouth instinctively open and moan out, his eyes drooping. "Wow Mal," he whispered, moving his fingers as he added a third, pumping them inside him, making sure to press against the spot, enjoying the quivering of the smaller man as he tried hard to not moan out as he had just done. "I can't hold back anymore," he whispered in his ear, removing his fingers from inside him.

Malik watched in a daze as Altair lifted his legs, reaching down to push down his pants and reveal his own erect cock. He pumped it a few times, then positioned over the hole, pressing in. Just the head was enough for the other. He tensed, feeling his muscles being stretched in a way he wasn't use to. Tears weld up in his eyes as he bit the side of his hand, feeling the other filling the space he didn't even know was there.

"I'm sorry... does it hurt?" Altair asked, his brows furrowing in concern as he moved up to check on him.

"D-Don't move. Please," Malik begged, pushing back his shoulders so Altair was back in the position he was just in. "Just...give me a second," he panted, trying to control his body. '_It'll be okay. It's Altair. You __can trust him. You know this. Just let him continue. The pain will pass... right?_' he thought to himself, trying to convince himself to not have the other stop. The pain was now a dull feeling, not really a pain or pleasure. Simply an odd feeling of being filled. He nodded his head and opened his eyes looking at Altair, who looked concerned, "You can move now," he stated, the other nodding and sitting up more, awakening the pain once again as he began to rock inside him.

"Ah..." Malik let out a soft gasp as the other leaned forward, planting his lips to his. Malik wrapped his arms around the other's shoulders, tangling their tongues together in hopes that the feeling in his mouth would distract him from the pain below. He felt a hand wrap around his almost forgotten member and blushed as he felt the other begin to stroke him and time him with the trusts he was doing.

The friction below was starting to dull, but not like before when he felt filled. He felt good. A sudden feeling welling up in his stomach making him moan softly. "Harder..." he panted out, without even knowing what he said. He gasped out as the other obliged and sat up, lifting his back more and trusting deeper and harder inside him. Malik's head threw back as he moaned out, knowing fully well he was on his peak. He couldn't hold it in anymore. He managed to look up, blushing at the wild look on his lover's face as he thrust into him. "Altair..." he groaned out, "I'm...close..." He groaned as he felt Altair grasp his member once again, "Let me..." he whined, not able to feel a release because of the other.

"Together..." Altair panted, thrusting hard against the spot he discovered earlier making Malik twitch and moan out louder, his toes curling as he panted out.

His eyes rolled back as he was finally let go of, his orgasm clouding over his mind as he felt the sensation of finally allowing to release and being filled inside. All he could manage to do was pant and close his eyes. He made an involuntary whining sound as he felt Altair exit him, and sighed as he felt the other's arms wrap around him and hold him.

"Are you okay?" Altair whispered, still concerned with the pain he was causing him in the beginning.

"Mmmhhmm," Malik replied, not bothering to open his mouth. He felt exhausted, but oddly satisfied. Never in his lifetime would he dream that something that started out so painful would feel so good.

"I love you, Malik."

"I...love...too" he managed to mutter out before falling asleep, pressed up against his lover's chest, feeling completely content, not worrying about anything but the man who was holding him.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>I apologize for the obnoxiously long wait. A truckload of stress fell into my lap lately and I hadn't really had all that much time to write. And if you saw my DA I am doing that drawing a day challenge which I barely make my deadlines because of stress (not to mention I have hated 80% of the outcomes too.) So I really do apologize and I hope you guys aren't cross with me Dx<p>

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>dippychick16<span>_: Ah yes... I recall the first time I read through the book. It was hard not to throw it across the room x.x;

_Story Puppet:_ Thank you kindly :)

_eliina_: He is an idiot x.x I could throw Abbas off a building if I could Dx


	19. Chapter 19

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 19

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><p>Time had passed quickly for the two assassins. Altair had been promoted all the way up to Master, Malik two steps below that. They hadn't failed a mission since they had reunited three years ago. The twenty three year old and the twenty two year old were inseparable, and were told countless times by Al Mualim that they reminded him of Tamir and Majid and were growing to become even stronger then the pair. This fact alone excited the new master, making him far to sure of his own abilities.<p>

Though, something had been bothering Malik for some time now. Every time they were separated in a mission the lower ranked assassin would stumble upon dead bodies every so often. It wouldn't normally bother him so much if he had simply found them, but the fact that each one was killed swiftly and skillfully made the other think it was Altair who was doing so. During their resting time he made to ask him, but every time he looked into his eyes he couldn't bare to do so. Why was he scared of the answer? Was it because of what Majid said three years ago? Was his pride too great to admit that his uncle was wrong? Had he changed so drastically?

Malik sat in the library, his eyes fixed to a spot on a scroll in his hands. He had been there for some time, concentrating that spot and ignoring all around him. He didn't hear or pay attention to anyone who entered or exited the area, nor did he acknowledge them when they waved or said hello. Everything was a muffled blurry sort of sound that didn't make any sense.

"Malik... Malik... Malik... MALIK!"

Malik jolted back to reality and looked to the side, his brother standing beside him, a brow raised, his hands behind his head looking to his brother curiously. He heard a soft laugh and looked forward, the man causing his distress standing across from him, leaning against a shelf.

"Did you say something?" Malik asked, looking between the two, Kadar shaking his head and rubbing his forehead, Altair smiling but also shaking his head.

"It's Altair's birthday tomorrow. Maybe we should go somewhere since last year you two were on a mission?"

"Yeah, we should," Malik nodded his head, looking down once again.

"Malik what's the matter? You've been acting strange since we had that job in Haifa," Altair asked.

Now was his chance, he could ask. 'Have you been killing innocent people during missions?' he wanted to ask it, but instead ended up smiling and shaking his head, "I'm fine, just a bit tired is all."

"Maybe you should go back to your room, brother?" Kadar suggested.

Malik nodded, rolling up the scroll in his lap, and standing as he stretched upward. He didn't dare to look at Altair. If he did the other would know he wanted to ask a question, and although he had been anxious to ask it, he really didn't want an answer.

Kadar followed him to the dormitory tower and bid him goodbye as he left to go meet up with his other friends. Malik knew Altair was close behind, but made no indication that he knew. They entered their room after climbing the stairs, Altair's eyes boring holes into the other's back as he stared at him, wordlessly asking what was the matter. The younger boy stood staring at his bed, keeping his back to the older, who started to glare, his temper silently flaring.

"Why can't you look at me?" Altair finally asked, sitting down on his bed and removing his hood, glancing to the ground. "Somethings wrong with you. Just spit it out."

"Have you been killing innocent men, Altair?"

"What?" Altair's brows rose, his eyes shooting back up to look at Malik who was now peering at him from behind his shoulder.

"I believe my question was clear."

"I've only killed when I needed to; when I was ordered to."

Malik's eyes narrowed as he turned to face him properly. He shook his head and let out a huffing sigh, "Are you positive?"

"What has gotten into you? First Abbas is on my tail saying Rauf saw me kill an innocent in Ashdod, now you? I'm your partner Mal, you've been with me. You see everything I do."

"What about those missing guards? Do you think I do not notice them?" Altair opened, then immediately shut his mouth confirming Malik's thoughts, "They are innocent people following orders Altair. The creed states we are not to take the lives of the innocent people-"

"What if the creed is wrong?" Altair snapped, Malik's eyes widening. "What if those guards were in the way of me and my goal? What then Malik? What can I do?"

"Find a way around it. Do not disgrace the creed with this."

Altair kept his mouth shut. He knew Malik was angry, and nothing was going to change that for the time being. Saying any more would only anger him further and possibly ruin their relationship.

Nothing was said further the rest of the day, or night. Both went to dinner at different times: Altair after Malik, giving the younger a chance to go to sleep before the other returned. Malik was up before Altair, and left heading down to the training area, practicing his knife throwing to keep himself sane. It was Altair's birthday. He couldn't start a fight or be angry with him today.

He looked up at a cough and smiled softly to Tamir who held his hand up to wave and walk over to him. "It's a nice morning, should be a good day today," the elder stated, taking a knife that Malik handed him and threw it at the X on the target. "It's Altair's birthday today, right?"

"Mhm..." Malik nodded, tossing his blade to try and hit in the dead center like the master next to him, but huffed as it drifted slightly to the left.

"Is he giving you a hard time?"

"That's not it..." Tamir raised a brow silently questioning him to explain, "He's... bothering me with his actions."

"Cockiness?"

"No... I don't know a word to describe it..." He couldn't admit his wrong doings to anyone. If Al Mualim found out... He didn't want to even think about it.

"Well, whatever it is it will pass. It's probably a phase. I've been through a few myself, everyone does. Just let him ride it out." Malik blinked and looked up to the older man. Was this a phase? Did Tamir or even Majid do something like this before? He certainly hoped it would pass. "Don't worry to much," he felt the other pat his shoulder and turn away, leaving Malik to his thoughts.

He needed to collect himself. Tamir came at the proper moment, and calmed his fears. He'd get his partner back, he was now sure of it. He tossed his last knife at the target, then stepped forward collecting them, and put them away. He went to the courtyard of where they were fixing breakfast, and calmly waited. Once they were serving, he took two plates of food and headed back up to their room. It wasn't a huge gesture, but it would be a start of an apology for the way he acted the day before.

As expected, the other was still sound asleep, tangled in his blankets, hugging his pillow as he softly snored. He grinned softly and walked over to their side table and set down the plates, squatting down next to Altair's cot. He started to gently poke at his face before he moved his finger against his skin making invisible designs as he made his way to the other's neck. If he kept this up and tried his hardest to go as softly as possible...

Altair snickered in his sleep as Malik brushed his finger against a spot just below his ears. The younger man smirked and brushed it once again, with three fingers this time, making the other laugh and open his eyes, sitting up almost immediately. "Mal... What're you doing?" he asked, flopping back down and rubbing his eyes.

Malik simply shrugged, sitting up to lean over him, "Where do you want to go today?" he asked, bringing their faces together till their noses touched.

"Can I just...sit and stare at you?"

"Whatever you want. It's your birthday after all."

The birthday boy seemed to be considering it, and smiled leaning up to kiss him softly, "Can we do...anything?"

Malik hesitated, then nodded his head, "Anything."

Altair pushed him to the side, pinning him down, "You promise? You can't say no once I state what I want to do." He scooted between the other's legs, making him squirm involuntarily and gulp.

"I... promise."

"Alright then." He sat up and stretched as he looked to the food, "Oh, this for me?" Malik nodded, watching him curiously, "Thanks Mal," he scooped up a plate and sat down on the edge of his cot as he began to eat.

"What exactly are we going to do today?" the other asked, still laying on his back, not daring to move.

"Hm, I think I'll practice throwing knives. I'll need a target, which is where you come in."

"You don't need practice," Malik argued, sitting up and glaring at him, "I know perfectly well that you have no problems throwing knives."

"Doesn't hurt to practice."

"But Altair-"

"You did say anything." Altair raised his brows looking back at him, smirking as the younger opened and closed his mouth, looking for something to say, but failing. "Or was that a lie? You didn't mean anything?"

"I did mean anything, but I didn't know you wanted to throw knives at me. I'm your partner, not some Templar." It was a long shot, but the smaller man was starting to fear that he really meant he wanted to throw knives at him.

Altair burst out into laughter and shook his head, smiling wide as he picked up Malik's plate and handed it over to him, "I'm not going to use you as target practice," he assured him, as the other took his plate hesitantly, "I already spoke to Kadar last night and told him I didn't really want to go out. Maybe we could just walk around the castle, you and me."

"You don't want to go anywhere?" Malik almost looked disappointed as he looked to the other.

"You asked me what I wanted to do. I told you. All I really need is you."

Malik rolled his eyes and let out a soft laugh, "Alright, alright."

The day was nearly perfect. They spent the time climbing up the cliff out back of the castle, and wandering around aimlessly. All of Malik's fears of Altair being a changed man were history, and not even invading his thoughts as they headed back to the castle, arm in arm. They knew that once they got up the hill they'd have to let go of each other, but in that moment they could care less.

Malik smiled at Altair as they walked back into the castle walls. They frowned almost immediately and let go of each other's arms as Rauf, Al Mualim's latest favorite for messenger, walked up to them. They walked up to greet him, and stopped awaiting whatever it was he had to say.

"Al Mualim wishes to see you," he finally stated, his eyes shifting to the side, showing conflict in his gaze.

The two nodded their heads and headed up to meet their master, who also looked equally conflicted, and rather stressed as he rubbed his temples and paced. "No doubt you've heard of Robert de Sables?" he asked, finally pausing in front of them. The two nodded, and the master continued, "His men have been crawling all over Solomon's temple. They seem to be searching for something, if not found this item already. I want you to find it and bring it to me. Make sure it does not land in his hands." He put his hands behind his back and looked to Malik, "Bring your brother along with you, it should be fine with you both, but if you find trouble it's best to have another with you."

Malik nodded and turned to leave as the Master nodded to him. He stopped to wait for Altair, only to be given a look from the master that told him to leave right away. Why wasn't the master speaking to him as well? He hid behind a bookshelf and listened carefully, trying to see through the cracks between the scrolls.

"Altair let me be perfectly frank with you... I know how you and Malik have been acting with each other. It isn't right to feel this way. Love isn't meant for two men. You need to be tough, and only partners. If I hear of any other relationship again I will be forced to behead one of you. I trust you know which I would be beheading? The one I do not have as much use for."

Malik cringed as he saw Al Mualim lean forward whispering in his ear. He shook his head and rushed out before Altair was dismissed. They were found out? How? They were so careful, never did anything in sight of anyone. He nearly tripped on his way to the dorm tower, almost running into his brother, who held his shoulder's looking at him concerned.

"Malik what's the matter?" he asked, the older brother shaking his head in response.

"Get ready, we are departing immediately and we were told to bring you as well."

Kadar nodded and watched as Malik made his way to the tower. He couldn't figure it out. How could the master know? What were they going to do? He flopped face first into his cot and hugged his cushion, breathing out a sigh. He'd pack when Altair got here...

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><p>Malik looked up as the door had opened. He tilted his head to the side as Altair entered, plopped back next to him and staring at the ceiling. "Maria's having the child now..." he stated at a soft whisper.<p>

"Oh?" Malik blinked and looked to the window then back to Altair. How long had he been here? Had it been a couple of months already? The Rafiq found it a bit ironic that he was writing about the most frustrating time of his life that was caused by the man next to him, yet all he could feel was love towards the other.

He heard the door opening and watched as Tazim crawled into the room, and ran into Malik as the Rafiq blinked and patted his back, "Whats the matter?" he questioned, looking to Altair who simply grinned and watched.

"There's screaming coming from the next tower over. I was going to be brave and see what it was but uncle Majid told me that I wasn't to go there..."

"You ended up going?" Altair guessed, grinning wider as the boy jumped and looked away quickly.

"It's alright that you are curious; what did you see?" Malik asked, turning the boys head to make him look up at him and took a bed cloth and wiped at his tears.

"I didn't see anything... I got halfway down the hall it was coming from and left..." he reached up wiping away at his face, "The others are going to laugh at me..."

"I'm not laughing at you," Malik smiled kindly as the boy meekly looked up at him, "It doesn't matter if other's laugh at you. I makes you stronger. If they laugh at you just think of me, even Master Altair and uncle Majid."

Tazim nodded his head and clung to Malik once again, burring his face in his chest as he hiccuped. He muttered something, but neither Malik nor Altair could hear him. He lightly pushed his shoulders back, and made the young boy look up at him, "What was that?" he asked, the boy looking up at him with a hopeful glint in his eye.

"May I call you Baba?"

Malik froze. Was he really being asked this? He gulped and looked to Altair who was looking to Malik, also awaiting his answer. Was he able to say yes? Would Kadar not want that? "If that is what you wish," Malik finally stated, looking back to the boy, who grinned widely and nodded his head, once again clinging to him, attempting to wrap his short little arms all the way around the Rafiq.

He looked back at Altair, who was smiling at him, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. Was all this really happening? Altair was about to become a father, and Malik was now one as well? He wrapped his arm around the younger boy and leaned his head over to rest against the Master assassin's shoulder, allowing himself to close his eyes.

Maybe his bad luck in life was finally turning around...

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>-Replaying AC1 for the five billionth time. Every time I do I always find myself shocked as to how much of a grumpy asshole Altair is in the first hour of the game. Endgame Alty plus my imagination always makes me forget xD.<p>

-I don't think anyone understands how much I am dreading this next chapter. Well, on the contrary, you might now since I mentioned my fear... -facepalm- At any rate, I've had 80% of the next chapter done for a while now. So the chapter should be up within a few days of this one.

-You guys are probably tired of these long waits x.x I'm really sorry. I don't mean for them to be so spread out, especially after updating so quickly when I was on that two week vacation.

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Story Puppet<span>_: Thank you kindly :D

_Dredonis_: I'm glad you think so, thank you :)

_Uccan_: I'm glad you enjoyed the smut x3 I enjoyed writing it... xD! You said your birthday is coming up, so I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday again here :) I'll try to get your request in within the next few chapters for sure :D

_BADAZZtoldya_: Marriage! We need to sit over tea and discuss this. I don't just hand my baby out to just anyone~~ jk x3 The review made me laugh and smile so thank you very much for that! As for the 20 page essay... Good god. No thank you o_o;;; I can manage 6 pages no problem, or 20 pages if I'm given a while to work on it, but a week? Plah... no D:

Thank you to everyone who continues to support me and read this story, means alot! Thank you all for the reviews, story alerts + faves! Please continue to support me and continue to let me know how you like the story and such~ Thank you x3


	20. Chapter 20

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 20

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><p>Malik opened his eyes and looked around the room. He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep. He heard the soft sounds of breathing and looked down in his lap, grinning to see Tazim curled up against him sound asleep. He looked to his side and was pleased to see that Altair was laying next to him as well, also asleep. For a man who was having a baby, he sure seemed to not really want to be in the loop of things.<p>

He carefully reached over, careful not to move the two, and took a hold of his book. He flipped open to the page where he left off, opened his bottle of ink, and began to write, using his knee as a desk as best as he could...

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><p>Altair had come and left with no more then a glance to Malik the entire time he packed. It was incredibly lonely and scared the other to say the least. Was this a sign of what was going to happen in the future? Could they no longer share any affection? The thought was enough to kill him right then and there.<p>

He looked up as the door opened, his uncle walking in, rubbing the back of his head. Something was troubling him, Malik could tell that much. He raised a brow and looked back to his bag as he shoved his clothes in it, awaiting whatever his uncle was going to say.

"Altair is different, Malik. You need to talk to him. You need to calm him down. If he keeps this up something bad is going to happen. He will lose his life."

Malik's eyes narrowed as he stared at the floor. This talk again? He had just gotten the thought out of his head. "What proof do you have of this, Majid? He's changed, but so have I. We are no longer little kids that you can easily impress with your stories. We do as we are told by the master, we will go and complete our mission as planned."

The elder assassin sighed and shook his head, "And what about Kadar, Malik? Your brother is going with you. Robert de Sables... I've heard things about him. Your partner will no doubt kill more innocent men. What will Kadar think? He is almost your age but has not faced the action you and Altair have faced."

"Kadar might still have the mindset of a novice, but I've seen death. I've killed. He has not. He will have to see it if we have to kill for the sake of the creed."

"Altair has been breaking the creed Malik. He has been killing innocents. You and I both know this. He's acting rash. Even Al Mualim sees this."

"You don't know what you are talking about," Malik stood and glared at his uncle, "I have to go. Altair and Kadar will be waiting for me." He walked past him, pausing as Majid grabbed his wrist.

"Watch him, Malik. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid at Solomon's Temple."

"Watch yourself Majid. I trust my partner. Is this a reflection on how you see Tamir?" he turned to face him once again, his brows furrowed together in anger, "Is the seed of doubt that you are trying to plant in my mind a reflection of what you see in him?"

"Tamir doesn't break the creed Malik. Tamir follows it in everything he does. You and I both know this. Don't make it about someone else. Watch Altair."

Malik yanked his wrist away from his uncle and shook his head, "I can't believe I've trusted you. Turning me to try and doubt him. It's pathetic," he walked out of the room, his eyes fixed on the ground, ignoring the calls of his name as he attempted to call out to him once again. He was angry, and believed he had every right to be. His partner was following the creed. All the men he had killed in the past deserved it. He paused and looked to the sky as he exited the dorm tower. They did deserve it... Didn't they?

"Are you ready Malik?" he turned to look at his younger brother and nodded his head, smiling to him. "Altair said he would meet us at the gates. He didn't seem to happy. Is there something about this mission that is troubling him?"

"I do not know."

"What exactly are we doing?"

"Just..." Malik huffed. He didn't want his brother to come with them, let alone know what they were doing. He wanted to stay in the mindset that his brother was an innocent novice, nothing more or less. "You should be feeling honored to be coming along."

He didn't mean to snap at his brother... but it all just came out. He resisted the urge to grind his teeth together as he walked to the gates. Once they arrived at the gates, Altair turned his back to them, walking to them past the horses.

"We aren't riding?" Kadar asked, blinking as he pointed to the horses, almost longingly.

"It's not a far walk*. It'd be useless to take them," Altair stated, walking on without pause.

"It's a day away," Malik stated to Kadar, who simply groaned and nodded his head, holding onto the strap of his bag.

"Can't we take them?" the younger of the group half pleaded.

Altair stopped and scowled, not bothering to look at them as he turned and walked back to the horses. He took the reigns of one, then mounted it, galloping off, leaving the other two to do the same.

They day of walking went by slower then their trips had in the past. Altair wouldn't speak a word, simply staring forward as they trekked onward. The only sound that was really made was when Kadar had something to say, or started to sing. It hurt Malik, to say the least, and frustrated him greatly not to hear Altair, or see him glance his way.

They arrived at the temple at a few hours before dawn. They staked out the entrance, and were surprised to find that it was unguarded. Entering the temple was easy enough, but as they made their way further into the catacombs they stumbled upon guards who were swiftly killed by Altair. Each death drove Malik on the brink of madness. One more life that could have been spared if they simply found another way.

Altair lurched forward, approaching another guard. Malik raised his hand, opening his mouth as he watched his partner go in for another kill, "Wait! There must be another way!" he called out, "This one need not die." But it was to late. The man was on the ground dead quicker then Malik could speak.

As they walked forward, Malik scowled in disgust. It wasn't a guard at all...

"An excellent kill. Fortune favors your blade," Kadar complimented, smiling at the master assassin, Malik continuing to glare.

"Not fortune," Altair glanced at Malik, finally making eye contact for the first time since the previous day, "Skill." Malik was beyond angry now. Where had Altair gone? This wasn't his partner. This couldn't be the man he loved. Malik looked to Kadar, his teeth gritted as the older continued, "Watch a while longer and you might learn something."

"Indeed..." Malik sneered, "He'll teach you to disregard everything the master's taught us."

"How would you have done it?" Altair asked, cocking his head slightly to the side, his eyes almost challenging.

Oh how Malik wanted to hit him... "I would not have drawn attention to us," he shook his head, "I would not have taken the life of an innocent. What I would have done is follow the creed." Why hadn't he listened to Majid? If he had... This all could have been stopped.

"Nothing is true; Everything is permitted." Those words stung Malik's ears as they were heard from the other's mouth. "Understand these words. It matters not how we complete our task; only that it is done. "

"That is not the way of-" Malik started to argue.

"My way is better."

Malik huffed and looked away. Tears brimming his eyes. Who was this man? "I will scout ahead." He turned his back quickly and stalked off, muttering "Try not to dishonor us further," as he walked. He couldn't stand this anymore. He heard his brother and Altair speaking, but took no notice to whatever it was that they were saying. It didn't matter anymore. Get the treasure and go home. That is all he wanted. He'd request a new partner when he got back. It didn't matter if they worked well together. It didn't matter if Malik's heart was now tearing because he still loved this man. Nothing mattered.

He jumped across beams and moved forward. He could hear voices ahead, and kept going across the beams. As he came up to a wall with a ladder, he turned and watched as Altair sprinted forward, taking a hold of the ladder and climbing up it. Malik waited for his brother, then climbed up with him, cringing as he saw Altair going in for yet another kill. They quickly walked past it, and slowed to a stop as they neared a ledge, where the Templars and Robert de Sables were no doubt at.

"There," Malik pointed, looking to his brother who stared down in awe, "That must be the ark," he stated at the large chest below.

"The... ark?" Kadar licked his lips as he peered down. "Of the covenant?"

"Don't be silly, there's no such thing," Altair sneered, Malik glancing back to glare at him again, "It's just a story."

"Quiet," Malik stated as he stepped back, pulling his brother so he wouldn't be seen. "Someone's coming."

Men walked into the room below, peering around "I want this through this gate by sunrise! The sooner we possess it, the sooner we can turn our attention to those jackals at Masyaf," the bald man stated.

"Robert de Sable," Altair whispered, turning to look at them for a moment, "His life is mine."

Malik shook his head, "No," he argued, "We would want to retrieve the treasure and deal with Robert only if necessary," he stated, standing upright.

"He stands between us and it," Altair hissed pointing down below, "I would say it's necessary."

"Discretion, Altair!" Malik began to lecture, balling his fists in anger.

"You mean cowardice," Altair glared, Kadar standing back and looking between them, his eyes jetting back and forth in confusion of why the two were acting this way, "That man is our greatest enemy. And here we have a chance to be rid of him!"

"You have already broken two tenets of our creed," he shook his head, "Now you could break the third... Do not compromise the brotherhood!"

"I am your superior in both title and ability, you should know better than to question me."

Altair turned and headed to the ladder that led them downward. If his brother had not taken his shoulder to move him forward, Malik would have collapsed. He felt like a doll now, a lifeless body. He gave his heart to that man. Now that man was no more than a memory to him even though he stood feet away. He climbed the ladder down with them and stepped down, following them to meet the Templars.

"Hold Templars! You are not the only ones with business here," Altair stated, the bald man turning and smiling very slightly.

"Ah!" he didn't look as surprised as he sounded, "Well, this explains my missing man. And what is it that you want?"

Altair stepped forward, readying himself for an attack, "Blood," he stated, lunging forward to strike him with his hidden blade. Malik reached out to stop him, the last of his heart dropping as he and his brother called out "No!" to him.

Robert expected this, grasping onto his arms and holding back his attack, "You know not the things in which you meddle, assassin." he began to move, turning Altair with great strength "I spare you only that you may return to your master and deliver a message. The Holy Land is lost to him and his. He should flee now while he has the chance. Stay, and all of you will die."

He knocked his hand away, pushing him back to hit against poles, throwing him through a doorway. Malik and Kadar stood, watching in horror as the doorway filled with rubble and pieces of the building, blocking their way out and to Altair.

"Men! To arms!" Malik and Kadar backed away, Malik pulling out his blade, "Kill the assassins!"

"Find a way out!" Malik ordered Kadar, throwing him back the way they came. The least he could do was buy his brother a few seconds more time. He lunged forward, watching his targets moving forward, ready to kill him.

Metal clashed together as the blades clanked and clanged, the soldier's going against Malik. As he finished off two he had to take a moment to look back. Was his brother alright? He spotted him climbing the ladder and paled. There was a Templar up above, in the shadows, waiting to strike the unsuspecting brother.

"Kadar! Look out!" he called, pointing his blade up.

The younger brother blinked as he made it to the top, looking down to Malik, then forward, gasping as a squishing sound was heard. He slowly looked down, the Templar's blade run through his gut. He gulped down the saliva in his mouth, then took a step back, holding his front as he toppled back, landing below with a tud.

"NO!" Malik roared, a sudden pain shooting in his left arm. He looked back, Robert de Sable cutting at his arm, grinning like a mad man as he held a sort of covered box in his hand. Taking the moment, Malik lunged forward, kicking the man in the stomach, making him lose his footing and fall backwards, losing his grip on the object. Malik grabbed the cloth and yanked it up, glad it was in a sort of sack, and raced through the only door left.

His arm was in searing pain, but he could at least keep a grip on the sack still as he made his way through the maze of the temple. He fought through two guards, then raced through an opening, jetting to the right as he made his way to a Templar horse, grabbing it and leaping up to mount it.

Tears fell from his eyes from all the overwhelming emotion. He grasped onto the sack with his nearly deadened arm, yelling at the horse to go faster as he raced to the road. He noticed that one of their horses were missing, but didn't stop as he raced in the direction of Masyaf.

There was two things on his mind as he rode as fast as the horse would go: Revenge for his brother's life and to see the look on Altair's face when he was the one to bring the treasure to the master. The latter wasn't as important to him, but the anger of his brother's needless dead swelled inside him.

Once he made it back to the castle, he stumbled up the hill, ignoring the blood that flowed from the arm he could no longer move. He held onto the sack with the working right arm, skidding to his knees as Rauf ran forward.

"Malik! What happened?" he gasped.

"I need... to see Al Mualim..."

"We need to get you to a doctor," the other protested.

"I need to take this to Al Mualim!" he roared, standing to his feet, ignoring the tears that blurred his vision.

He heard footsteps and looked to the side as Majid stepped forward, "Let me have it Malik, I'll take it to him," he stated, his eyes shifting from the sack to his arm, his face plastered with worry.

"No... I need... to see his face..." Malik stumbled past Rauf and his uncle, making his way up to the entrance to where the Master would be. He handed the sack to a group of masked men who took the jeweled box out of the sack and placed it on a pillow. One of them, he could tell was trying to smile to him kindly, but he could not return the smile, hearing his partner's voice from above. He made his way up the stairs, clutching his arm, stumbling forward as he listened.

"You've done enough!" Al Mualim yelled, "Where are Malik and Kadar?" he asked, softly, his eyes narrowing.

"Dead," Altair answered. Malik could swear he thought he saw a tear fall from his eye, but shook his head and walked forward.

"No! Not dead!"

"Malik!" Al Mualim gasped looking to the bloodied assassin his eyes widened.

"I still live at least!" He jeered, glaring at Altair, who looked away in shame.

"And your brother?" Al Mualim looked as if he was dreading the answer.

"Gone..." He shook his head, shaking the tears away and pointing to Altair, "Because of you!"

"Robert threw me from the room! There was no way back, nothing I could do," Altair argued.

"Because you would not heed my warning! All of this could have been avoided! And my brother..." his tears freely fell as he shook his head, his arm and heart aching with pain, "My brother would still be alive! Your arrogance nearly cost us victory today!"

Al Mualim stopped and blinked, "Nearly?" he repeated.

"I brought what your favorite failed to find," he looked back at one of the masked men, who held the box, walking forward to the master, "Here, take it." He looked down, the sound of footsteps. He knew that only meant that he was followed. "Though it seems I have returned with more than just their treasure..."

A masked assassin rushed into the room, "Master!" he shouted, revealing he was Majid just by his tone of voice, "We are under attack! Robert de Sable lay siege to Masyaf's village!"

"So he seeks a battle! Very will, I'll not deny him. Go, inform the others. The fortress must be prepared," he turned to look at Altair, and glared, "As for you, Altair... Our discussion will have to wait. You must make for the village. Destroy these invaders. Drive them from our home!"

"It will be done," Altair stated, turning and rushing past Majid, who mumbled something to another assassin. That assassin nodded and rushed after Altair and Al Mualim.

He stepped forward and walked to Malik, taking his shoulder, "Come, we need to get your arm looked at..."

"Kadar is..." Malik started to choke on his tears, his knees buckling in despair as his uncle supported him to the stairs.

"I know... I know," Majid nodded, giving up as he picked his nephew up and carried him out of the building. Fighting could be heard from the village, but he quickly walked to another tower, taking him to the doctors. The rest of the assassins could handle it. Malik needed a doctor right away, and was in no way fit to fight along side them.

He felt his mind slipping. The last thing he could really remember was the feeling of being set on a table, a block of wood being shoved between his teeth. But once the pain of his arm being chopped off started, his mind went blank. He yelled out loudly, Majid having to be one of the men holding him down as he yelled out his body thrashing wildly as he struggled.

The next thing he remembered was sitting up in bed, grasping his now stump of an arm and looking about wildly. He was in his dorm room. He looked to where Altair normally slept and sighed looking down as he saw Majid sitting there instead. "You were beginning to worry me," the older man stated, sitting up and walking over to sit next to him. "Are you hungry?"

"My chest hurts..." Malik answered, putting his hand over his heart and shaking his head, "Is everyone alright? Al Mualim? Tamir? What about the other assassins?"

Majid was silent for a moment before he shook his head, "There were a few casualties.. Including Tamir," his voice was shaking very slightly as he controlled his tears.

"It's all my fault Majid..." Malik shook his head as he lowered it. "If I had listened to you, Kadar and Tamir-"

"There's nothing you could have done. Altair was going down a path that none of us could follow..."

Malik sniffed, holding back his tears as he wiped at his face with his hand. He looked up and grimaced, "What's going to happen to me? I can not be an assassin with just one arm, can I?"

"Al Mualim spoke of the Rafiq in Jerusalem retiring. I think he means to send you there to take his place."

Malik nearly scoffed. A life of doing nothing but following orders, killing men and learning to defend his own existence only to end up giving leave to the men who come for jobs. He always thought of the job as a Rafiq to be for old men, not young men who still had their whole lives ahead of them.

"I suppose that is all I can do..."

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>Sorry I ended it there, I was pushing over to 8 pages and was scared that would leave nothing for the next chapter. The next chapter will continue from here, and should be up relatively soon.<p>

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><p>*I was doing research to figure out how far away Solomon's temple really is from Masyaf castle and in all my searching I found out that it's actually near Jerusalem. That's just cruel. Making Malik become the Rafiq of somewhere so close to where his brother was murdered :L BUT since this is a story, and I was trying to stick with the time-line of the game, I figured making it more closer to home since the true location is far, and supposedly was destroyed in 587 BCE...so yeah. ALSO. It was said to be on top of Mount Zion many...many years ago. SO for the sake of the story, it's a days walk away, and not there. Also for all I know this temple could be a completely different one. So I really don't have a clue.<p>

-I'm really sorry that this chapter contained so much of the game, but it was sort of expected I think. I tried as much as I could to add my little zest to the parts that were in the game, giving the lines a bit more life.

-Last note I swear. Goddamn... that was a hard chapter to write. It killed me a little inside to write it out. At least at this point things can only go forward~

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Dredonis<span>_: It wasn't that much of a wait, so thats good xD I'm glad you like it ^^

_Story Puppet:_ Thank you :3 Here you are :D

_dippychick16:_ Yeah, Al Mualim is a (insert slur of bad and uncreative words here) And I'm sorry that that was confusing at first Dx I'll make sure to make a better transition for the future.

_BADAZZtoldya_: It was going to happen eventually D: I was dreading it deeply. But now that's out of the way. Only thing left to do is move forward :D


	21. Chapter 21

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 21

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><p>A life of doing nothing but following orders, killing men and learning to defend his own existence only to end up giving leave to the men who come for jobs. He always thought of the job as a Rafiq to be for old men, not young men who still had their whole lives ahead of them.<p>

"I suppose that is all I can do..."

"Not entirely," The two looked up at the doorway, Al Mualim standing, his hands behind his back as he walked into the room fully. "You have skill of drawing Maps. If you agree I will have you in charge of copying out maps and making new ones of Jerusalem for other assassins and Rafiqs to use. Also, being a Rafiq isn't just sitting around and giving orders. It takes knowledge and a lot of snooping and surveillance to find out where certain targets are more likely to be. It also takes good vocal skills to make friends and allies in the city. It's much more then what most assassins think."

Malik thought for a moment, then slowly nodded. It wouldn't be that big of a deal. More or less it could be a bit more relaxing. He would be in control, he would make the rules for his bureau, he could tell the assassins yes or no for if they could go in for the kill or not. He nodded his head and looked back up at the master, "Alright."

"Excellent news," the older man smiled wide, and pulled out a set of robes and a cloak that he had seen most older assassins wear, "Since you will not be needing the in field robes, you can replace them with these as your every day clothes," he stated, holding them out to Malik, who took them and looked at them curiously. "I'll give you a week to get ready, there are plenty of doctors in Jerusalem that can look after your arm to make sure that it heals correctly."

As the master left, he looked back at Majid, who grimly smiled. "I always thought I'd be the one in those robes sooner or later, not you," he stated, leaning back against the wall.

Malik lightly smiled, and stood, changing into the robes and looking down at himself, then to the flap where his other arm should have been. Majid stood and walked over to him, pulling out a thin rope from his robe and tying it so the flap wasn't dangling.

"Oddly enough they suit you," the older man stated, smiling at the younger who looked himself over as best as he could.

"They feel a bit lighter then normal assassin robes," he marveled, pausing and looking to the door as he heard it open. His eyes narrowed, stepping back as Altair walked in, avoiding eye contact with both of them. He started to pack his things away in a sack, hesitating as he made his way back to the door, and glancing back at them, his hand against the side of the door. He seemed to want to say something... But his mouth never opened.

Malik let out a breath he had been holding once the other left the room and closed the door behind him. He had been fine, up until he saw the other. It was reality, Kadar and Tamir were gone; and even though he was told it wasn't his fault, he couldn't help but feel responsible. His knees buckled, as he quickly fell, Majid rushing to his side as he felt tears rush to his eyes. It was several minutes before Malik could control his sobs and mutter a soft "I'm sorry" to his uncle, who only shook his head and held him close.

"It's good," Majid started once Malik was no longer crying, simply breathing deeply, focusing on the sound of the air entering and exiting his mouth, "That you will be going to Jerusalem. It will give you a new start, and new challenges."

All Malik could do was nod in response. He felt pathetic, but what really could he do? He lost a father figure, a brother, a lover, and his arm all in the same day. He felt his uncle hoist him up and lead him out of the room. He could feel the eyes of others on him glancing at him with pity, but he ignored it, following Majid's lead down to the courtyard to get something to eat. He wasn't particularity hungry, but managed to scarf down a little bit of food before giving up and retreating back to his room.

The room was his hideaway for two weeks before Al Mualim finally sent him on his way to Jerusalem. The trip was agonizing since he was alone, but he didn't let his thoughts get to him as he made sure to keep his mind completely blank the whole ride there; else he would break down and start to cry again. Never in his life had he wanted to just give up before. When his mother was murdered he fought to survive for the sake of Kadar, when he was forced to study endless material that he didn't find the least bit interesting he kept going to prove himself. But this... It really got to him.

Once he arrived in Jerusalem he wandered the streets till he came across the market. He bought a few fruits, then headed to the bureau, shoving the delicious morsels in his bag before struggling up the ladder that lead to the bureau entrance. "What a pain," he murmured to himself, sitting down once he reached the top, glaring down at the street below. Never in his dreams would he ever think of climbing a ladder as a chore.

He got back up once he gathered the nerve to, and walked over to the gate, pulling the key Al Mualim had given him out of his pocket and unlocking the gate, slipping inside, then re-locking it. The master had told him to do this for a week, giving him time to get situated in his new home and to look around the streets and begin to do his job.

What Malik was going to do with a whole bureau was beyond him. He was use to having half of a room to himself, not an entire building. He walked inside and grinned as he saw the many scrolls behind his desk. Slipping behind it he began to glance through them, almost feeling giddy knowing he'd be able to read all of these as he wanted and whenever he wanted.

It would be a nice distraction at any rate...

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><p>Malik glanced up as he heard the door to his room open. The Master Assassin next to him shot up immediately, and looked at the man who entered. "It's twin boys*, Master," the man stated, making Altair's eyes widen.<p>

"Can I see them?" The man nodded at Altair's request, turning to lead him out. The older assassin glanced over to Malik with pleading eyes, making the Rafiq sigh and nod his head, closing his book and setting his ink and quill off to the side.

"Tazim, time to wake up," he stated, lightly shaking the boy, who groaned and rubbed his eyes. "It's time to go greet Altair's children and welcome them into the world."

At this statement the young boy's eyes widened with a unknown excitement, jumping up and clinging around Malik's neck so he could still stand, and then hold him as he walked. He wasn't about to admit it out loud just yet, but he was glad that Tazim was here. The boy brought a smile to his lips and since he was his brother's son, it gave him a little piece of Kadar.

The look on Altair's face amused Malik to no end. His eyes were widened slightly in a fear that he'd never seen the other wear before, his lips propped in a way that seemed like he wanted to smile but couldn't manage to do so. The Master Assassin simply looked terrified at the idea of being a parent now that his two children were born. As they entered the room where Maria and the two boys were being kept, the Rafiq felt a light tug on his robes, looking down to see Altair's fingers entwined in the fabric.

Maria was asleep on the bed off to the side, the two baby boys in the arms of two of the masked women in the room. They approached the new father, allowing him to take both of them, making the man suddenly glow with pride as they snoozed in his arms. "What will you name them?" Malik asked.

Altair looked thoughtful for a moment, then gestured to the boy on the left, "Darim," then to the right, "And Sef."

Malik shifted to the side, getting closer, Tazim's neck craned over to get a better look. His lips were parted as he stared down at the two baby boys as if waiting for them to do something interesting or perform some sort of trick.

"What do they do?"

Malik nearly laughed, but kept a straight face as Altair pouted his lips out, thinking of a way to answer the question. "Well, they are only babies. They cannot do much until they grow. You were like that at one point, you know?" the Rafiq answered.

Tazim's nose scrunched slightly as he buried his face in Malik's shoulder, "I was not," the boy protested, making the two men smile, "When will they get bigger?"

"Sooner or later. That's the amazing thing about life, it takes time to grow but once it has it is well worth the wait." Malik looked up at Altair once again and grinned, "I should probably take Tazim to his teacher."

The Master Assassin nodded his head watching as Malik turned to leave, "Wait, Malik." Malik turned back and looked to Altair who almost looked pained, "I love you."

The Rafiq blinked, gulping lightly as his eyes shifted slightly. Openly saying this in front of others, it was odd and unheard of. He looked around for a moment, and was surprised to see that no one was phased by the confession. Had Masyaf changed this much since he had last been here?

"You know I do too," Malik answered finally, smiling ever so slightly, then turning and heading out.

"Do I have to go train right now? I want to hear stories of your adventures with Master Altair," the boy in his arms complained, pouting as he looked up at his Uncle almost pleading with his best imitation of a puppy.

"You really are your father's son," Malik mused, setting the boy down in the courtyard, a group of Novice's Tazim's age sat a little ways away, "Go with your friends, and learn your material well. If you do I'll reward you with a story, alright?"

"Yes, Baba. I will," Tazim nodded, clenching his fists with enthusiasm and running off to join the others.

"Brother, can I speak to you a moment?"

Malik's eyes darted to the side, his eyes landing on Abbas who held his hands behind him in a pitiful manner, his head lowered ever so slightly.

"You may," Malik answered, turning to face him, keeping his arms at his sides, standing upright so he did not seem faltered or intimidated by the other.

"I simply had a question about Altair."

"Ask it."

"What does he plan to do now that Al Mualim is dead and gone? What is his plans?"

"Why do you not ask Altair about this yourself?"

"I dare not face him, brother."

"And what gives you the courage to face me and not him?"

Abbas looked down a moment, hesitant to answer, "With all due respect, you are not the one in control of the Apple. I've felt and seen what it can do, and do not wish to feel that pain again."

Malik was disgusted. He was afraid of Altair because of that horrible artifact that had his brother's blood on it as well as so many others. Of course, Malik hadn't seen exactly what it could do so he couldn't share anyone who had seen it's fear. But the fact that it rendered someone who was so cocky enough to take it and try to use it scared made him almost concerned for Altair for even having to be near it.

"I do not know the answers of which you seek. Altair has not spoken to me of his plans."

"Then why are you here?"

Malik nearly slapped him, his nostril's flaring in annoyance, "I'm here to be of help if I am needed. Nothing more or less. Now if you excuse me, I will be taking my leave."

Angry was a bit of an understatement of how the Rafiq was feeling. But the idiot did prove to ask a question that Malik had not thought of: Why _was_ he here? Was he here simply for Altair's comfort? He made his way to the dorm tower and shook his head. '_No, Altair said that after Darim and Sef were born he would have to travel. I am here to watch over the brotherhood in his place,_' Malik reminded himself, rubbing the side of his face.

Malik was barely turning thirty now, but he could honestly say he felt as if he was a man of his eighties. Not a comforting feeling at all. He flopped back on his cot and let out a sigh, his head laid against the cushion as he closed his eyes ridding his mind from any thought. He stayed like this for a good hour before he allowed himself to sit up, taking his book, ink and quill. He still had a lot to write, he couldn't just stop now...

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><p>It was two weeks before Malik had seen another Assassin grace him with their presence. Much to his relief, it was someone he didn't know, who was being sent to get rid of a man posing as a beggar who murdered when they least expected. It was a clever disguise when there were so many beggars around, and reminded Malik much of Isam Rasheef. He sent the Assassin to look for clues in the square, and was surprised to find that the man returned not even three hours later with plenty of information for the Rafiq to give the man a feather and the go ahead to take his life.<p>

As much as Malik was surprised, the life of a Rafiq was something that suited him well. He had time to do what he wanted, while doing his job and scouring the city, learning it's every hiding spot and gathering place. He had yet to make any allies yet like Al Mualim had suggested, but didn't see why he immediately had to and settled for mapping out the city first.

He unrolled a piece of paper, pulled out a quill and a vial of ink, then uncorked it, listening to the sound of a thud and footsteps that followed. He ignored the presence of the other man, assuming it was the Assassin he had sent out an hour ago. He opened his mouth, ready to ask for the feather back, when another voice was heard making him freeze.

**"Safety and peace Malik."

He glared at the paper below him before glaring up at Altair, his heart wracking with hurt as he looked at his face, "Your presence here deprives me of both. What do you want?" he sneered, setting the quill down, eying the other.

"Al Mualim has asked-"

"Asked that you perform some menial task in a effort to redeem yourself," Malik interupted, sighed, then continued, "So be out with it."

"Tell me what you can about the one they call Talal."

Of course Malik had heard of the man in his two weeks of being here. Spend a moment here and listen to the crowd and anyone would know of him. But Malik wasn't about to just up and tell the other everything he knew, especially when he had that demanding tone. "It is your duty to locate and assassinate the man, Altair. Not mine."

"You'd do well to assist me. His death benefits the entire land."

Altair looked agitated, as Malik wanted. He smirked very lightly in realizing how much Malik had seemed to change from the happy person he was once, to the bitter, vengeful person he was today. "Do you deny his death benefits you as well?" he jeered.

"Such things do not concern me."

Such an arrogant bastard. Malik clenched his fist, "Your actions very much concern me!" He gestured to his arm, turning away so he didn't have to look at his face.

"Then don't help me. I'll find him myself!"

Altair turned to leave, making Malik sigh and lower his head in defeat. Even now his hatred wasn't enough for him to continue like this. He didn't want to admit it, but he still cared for him. His back turned away from him hurt as much as it did when he betrayed him. "Wait... Wait," he called out, making Altair stop and turn his head to glance back at him. "It won't do having you stumble about the city like a blind man. Better you know where to begin your search."

"I'm listening."

Malik watched as the other turned to face him once again. "I can think of three places," he pointed south, "South of here in the markets that line the border between the Muslim and Jewish Districts," he paused and pointed north, "To the north near the mosque of this district, and" he paused again to point to the east, "east, in front of St. Anne's Church, close to the Bab Ariha gate."

"Is that everything?"

"It's enough to get you started," Malik sneered, regretting telling him this information now. "And more then you deserve."

Nothing more was said. He watched as Altair left, and collapsed back against his chair once he heard he had gone. He wasn't ready to face him, not in the slightest. He let out another sigh and rubbed the back of his neck, closing his eyes as he breathed in and out deeply. At least he didn't break down into tears anymore...

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>*I couldn't bring it in my heart to give Altair another reason to hurt Malik in order to have Sef, so I made the boys twins instead. Darim is still the older one though, that much is still true Dx<p>

**At the beginning-ish of the game when you are given the choice of going to Acre of Jerusalem, which do you choose? I always go to Jerusalem just because I like to bug Malik :D; That's why Altair appears so suddenly, I figure if he went to Jerusalem before Acre he'd arrive around this time. That and I wanted Altair in here more D:

On another note...

I don't think anyone realizes how much I hate packing. I really... Really do. If you didn't read on my DA about how I have to pack up all my stuff lemme give you a little short version of what I'm having to do: I'm going to be going on a Disney on ice tour with one of my closest friends, well hopefully. I won't really know till about August. But, since I'll be gone for 9 months away from home, and my parents are about 85% sure they are going to be moving while I'm gone, I'll have to pack away the entirety of my life in boxes and sort through everything to toss out or to put in a box and keep.

Why did I tell you guys this? Basically to let you know the reason if I suddenly get slow on updates. The story isn't exactly close to being finished, more like half way. So I promise I will not abandon the story, but please bare with me if I get slow ;A;

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Dredonis<span>_: It wasn't much fun to write, I'll say that much. ;~;

_RocKath Girl_: Thank you very much for saying so! It means a lot. I'm sorry for killing Tamir ;~; It killed me a bit to do it, but it just didn't seem possible in my mind for everyone to just keep on living Dx

_BADAZZtoldya_: xD I ninja write when I have time to do so. Give me the time and I'll write to my hearts content~ Also I have to thank you. Your reviews never cease to make me smile every time.

_Story Puppet_: Thank you, and yes, It's about halfway-ish done.

_Rindou Kiara_: I aim to please x3 -spoils you with more chapters-

_dippychick16_: Oh gosh! I'm so sorry Dx If it makes you feel better I wrote most of that chapter in the middle of the mall when I was waiting on a friend. It was so hard not to cry x.x;

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><p>Thank you so much for the support, the reviews, the story faves and alerts! They mean so much to me and brighten up my day!<p> 


	22. Chapter 22

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 22

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><p>Malik ignored the feeling of anger that swelled inside him every time Altair came inside the bureau. He kept his back turned to him, never bothering to greet him or say hello when the other greeted him. He supposed it was rude, but he honestly didn't much care. He kept to himself, reading a scroll or drawing out a map. He even took to doodling on a smaller piece of paper, till he realized he was sketching out the man he was ignoring, and promptly crumbled it up and burned it with the flame from a candle.<p>

He glanced upward as a shadow emerged from the entrance-way. He waited a moment, then looked away at seeing Altair once again. "Back again?" Malik finally spoke, rolling his eyes, "It's been a day, Novice. Do you not have any information at all?" The other was silent. He took a few steps forward, then placed a small wrapped package that was tied with a bit of string. "What's this?"

Altair kept quiet, then shook his head as he turned and headed to the door, "I didn't mean for all this to happen. Al Mualim said that if-"

"Don't pin this on the master, Altair. It was your faults, not his," Malik snapped, glaring at the assassin's back.

Altair dropped his gaze, lowering his head as he let out a soft sigh, "At any rate... Your birthday is in a few months, I'm sure you won't want me around then. I got that from Rauf who was visiting another country. I thought you'd like to use it."

Malik didn't know what to say. How could he? He watched as the other left the room, climbed up the wall and headed back into town. He reached out, and took the package, opening it and blinking. It was a leather bound book, with blank pages on the inside. He set it on the top of the counter and covered his mouth with his hand. He had only seen a few of these, but never this close, nor blank. He flipped to the front of the book and blinked at the very first page, a small note written at the very bottom in no doubt Altair's chicken scratch handwriting: 'A book of your very own to write whatever it is you want to write in it.'

The book was a touching gift, but as much as he wanted to be happy about getting it, he was also mad. He turned, snatching the book and roughly putting it on the shelf, flopping back in his chair and scowling. Why was all this so difficult? He glanced down at the flap of fabric that was a constant reminder that his arm was gone. He concentrated hard for a moment, trying to move the limb that was no longer there, then sighed and slumped back against the seat. It was no use. He tried it numerous times, over and over. He was never going to move an arm that wasn't there any longer.

He let his eyes close, crossing his arm over his stomach and hugging himself as he leaned forward, laying his forehead against the wood surface in front of him. It was a mere few seconds before he was gone; lost in his dreams...

_*Malik sat up and started to pace the bureau. He was waiting for something... He was waiting for someone. But who?_

_He heard the thud of someone landing inside, and turned around, facing the door and facing the man he loved. He seemed shy, and very embarrassed as he glanced down at the floor. The younger of the two didn't understand this look, nor did he even try to._

"_Come to seek forgiveness?" he muttered, in a almost cold tone. _

"_You know I have. I feel awful. Nothing in this world could compare to how badly I feel for wronging you Malik. No worlds in this world could express how sad I am for all the people who died because of my foolishness. Nothing I could do could show how terrible I hurt for making you lose everything..."_

_Malik lowered his head as the other walked forward stopping in front of him. He could hear his breathing as he stood there, no doubt peering down at him almost begging. "Please Malik... Forgive me..." he heard him whisper._

_The Rafiq lowly shook his head and looked up at him, tears in his eyes, "I forgive you, Altair," he whispered back, reaching out and pulling him down into a tight embrace..._

Malik sat up and rubbed his forehead, shaking the sleep away from him. Forgiveness? How could that remotely be possible at all? Altair didn't deserve it. He acted like a novice, a fool, and nothing like he was trained to be like. He heard a thud, just like in his dream, and froze, rubbing at his forehead and his face trying to rid himself of all hints that he was asleep.

He wasn't shocked to find it was Altair, but narrowed his eyes instead and glared at him. He heard the older drawl out his name and shook his head, "Come to waste more of my time?" he questioned, knowing full well he was wasting his time all by himself already.

"I've found Talal. I'm ready to begin my mission."

"That's for me to decide," Malik answered.

"Very well." Altair paused and took a few more steps inside, keeping calm, which was beginning to annoy Malik. Why wasn't he reacting? "Here's what I know: He traffics in human lives, kidnapping Jerusalem's citizens and selling them into slavery. His base is a warehouse located inside the Barbican north of here. As we speak, he prepares a caravan for travel. I'll strike while he's inspecting his stock. If I can avoid his men, Talal himself should prove little challenge."

Malik snorted, "'Little challenge'?" he repeated, "Listen to you! Such arrogance."

"Are we finished?" There was the nerve Malik was trying to provoke, "Are you satisfied with what I've learned?"

"No, but it will have to do." Malik reached under the counter and produced a feather from the many that were stashed away in a box. He placed it on top and watched as Altair took it and put it away for safe keeping, "Rest, prepare, cry in the corner... Do whatever it is you do before a mission. Only make sure you do it quietly."

He watched as the other walked over to the cushions and sat down. How long had it been since they both sat in that very spot? It seemed like a lifetime ago. He let out a silent sigh and stood up, walking to the storeroom. He paused and looked down, half laughing at himself as he thought about his attitude. "I've become a real sight, haven't I?" he muttered to himself, pulling some fruit from a basket into a small bowl. "Rather pathetic really..."

He took the bowl and walked back into the main room, and into the entryway, placing the bowl next to the cushions. Altair blinked and looked up at him curiously, making the younger roll his eyes, "I can't have you collapsing because of hunger out there when you are on the hunt. How would Al Mualim look at me?" he turned and walked away before Altair could answer.

No doubt the assassin was confused by now. Hell, Malik was even confusing himself. One moment he was being nice, the other jeering and prodding at him for his mistake. He silently admitted he should stick to a side, but shook his head as he sat down. He couldn't do that. His feelings were still there, but the hatred for what he did was also there. It was a huge conflictual feeling that he didn't know how to tame. He looked to the doorway and bit his lip '_If you really are sorry for your actions... please bare with me,_' he thought, clutching to the fabric of his robe.

This was going to be harder then he could imagine...

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><p>Malik glanced up from the book and smiled as Altair wobbled in and collapsed next to him. "How is being a father?" he asked, watching the master assassin crawl over to lay his head in his lap.<p>

"They're so noisy. Sef keeps pulling at Darim's ears and his nose. I swear that child is going to be the end of me," he stated, closing his eyes as Malik began to run his hand through the older man's hair.

"Babies are like that," Malik mused, making invisible lines and circles all across the other's scalp.

"You're lucky Tazim is no longer in that stage of his life."

"But since I'm here, I'll have to be around it. I won't avoid it," he grinned, watching as Altair opened his eyes and looked up at him.

"You aren't going to go back to Jerusalem?" Malik was puzzled. He blinked and furrowed his brows in confusion as he looked down at the other. Altair thought for a moment, then looked down and over to the wall, "I would think that you are just indulging me now to get rid of me when I go overseas to investigate the Templar occupation in other lands," he stated at a whisper.

The question he was going to eventually ask him was answered. Yes, he will be leaving overseas. He nodded his head and grinned slightly, "I'm never the one you have to worry about, you know this." He looked back down once again "Plus, you gave me a job to do, remember? I'm to watch over in your place while you are away. Who else would be able to ensure your boys get the proper training?"

"Well, I was thinking if you didn't want to, Amir La Fahmi always could..."

Malik raised a brow, "Who?"

A chuckle escaped Altair's lips as he put his hands behind his head, "Do you remember when we were just starting out as Novices in class, that stout black haired boy that always sneaked off to steal things that he could eat?" Malik thought a moment then smiled slightly as he matched a face to the name. It seemed so long ago, he was shocked that Altair remembered his name and not himself. "Well he's a lot more responsible now, but I honestly wouldn't put him in any position of leadership. Was simply hoping that you remembered him and would catch wind of my joke."

There was a pause of silence as the two stayed where they were, Malik still running his hand through the other's hair, and Altair still laying in his lap. "How..." Malik began, knowing fully well his conversation was being taken into a totally different direction. "How long till you leave?"

"Majid agreed to take care of the boys, and since their mother is staying here until they are old enough to start learning.. there is no real need for me to be here. I'd say in a month or two."

"And how long will you be gone?" By the way Altair sat up slowly, and grimly looked to the floor, the Rafiq was not looking forward to hearing the answer.

"I do not know. I'll be heading out to three different countries, so..."

"Years." Altair cringed and looked to him with almost hurt eyes, making the younger man sigh and shake his head, "We've been apart a lot. This stretch of time will be nothing. When you return I will be back with a greeting and an embrace just as the previous times we've been forced apart due to our lives."

This seemed to calm Altair a bit, but not by much. He stood up and looked out the window, nodding softly, "Do you want some water or food?" he asked.

"I'm fine, go eat if you are hungry," Malik waved his hand towards the door, the other nodding his head and heading out without another word being said.

Would these years without him be the same as the last time they had been torn apart? He shook his head and touched the cover of the book with his hand and chewed at his lower lip. No. He didn't think so. But what else could he say to the other?

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>*This dream was for Uccan. She drew an awesome picture on DA that I told her I'd implement the scene in the story somehow.<p>

Sorry for stretching out Altair's stay a bit. I just figure that if I went through the time like the game did, it wouldn't seem as realistic. I honestly think it would take a lot longer then an hour or two to gather enough information on a man, and what not.

Also, funny story. No not really funny but blah. My old computer exploded. Literally. So ever since then I've been saving my stories and chapters on a USB drive just in case (paranoia, who needs it D: ). That USB drive goes on my keys that go with me everywhere. I was on my area's subway system and my keys fell out of my pocket. Got home, realized this and my immediate reaction was just eye twitching and face palming. So all my notes for this story, all the tidbits of future chapters I had planned out, gone x.x

So with that being said, the chapter took twice as long to get back up because I had about 4-5 pages done already on the USB drive, and had to re-write everything on top of finding time to do so. Dx I also apologize for the shortness of this chapter, just getting this one up was a challenge in itself.

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Rindou Kiara:<span>_Abbas's (not-so) sneaky self will be appearing more in the next chapter. I needed a no Abbas zone for this one xD

_Dredonis:_ yes D: I feel bad for Malik =[

_BADAZZtoldya: _This was a pretty late update OTL. Very...Very late. I'm very ashamed of myself for this. Dx But yes, Alty did deserve it... maybe xD

_eliina:_ I wish I knew how to skate. Unfortunately I'd be one of the ones selling merch instead of skating. xD I'm not that talented, but yeah.. a job is a job and I'll be excited to be able to go around the country :D Will be an adventure.


	23. Chapter 23

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 23

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><p>It did not take long for Altair to return with the blood coated feather. But his swiftness was not surprising, nor was it the problem. Not even an hour later the bells clanged loudly, people rushing about in riots screaming of assassins. Of course, Malik had to close the entrance, and waited underneath scowling all the while.<p>

When they were younger they had a problem with being subtle. Why was Altair acting like such a novice even after the years of training? He heard footsteps above and stuck to the corner watching as guards ran across shouting to go this way and that. He had to half wonder if the other Rafiqs did the same as him when he was still an assassin. He knew that they all closed the doors until the assassin was given up on but did they stay under like this and just watch as people ran about like hoards of confused animals? It was somewhat amusing to watch, despite the fact that he couldn't allow himself to be seen at all.

Two hours passed before the hustle finally died down. At this point, Malik was tired of standing around watching the clouds drift by since only one or two guards passed by after the original rush. He took a pole that he used to prop open and close the gate when he wasn't up above, opened the fence once again and walked back to his desk where he sat down and looked about. He really needed to get out and make friends in Jerusalem. Just this sitting around and doing nothing but reading was starting to get him pent up and feeling lazy.

He heard a thud and sat up immediately. Of course it was Altair. As he watched the other he plastered on a smile and held his arm out in an almost sarcastic greeting. "Altair!" he boomed, the other looking at him curiously, obviously taking caution from his happy appearance, "Wonderful to see you return to us!" he lowered his hand raising his brows, "And how fared the mission?"

"The deed is done, Talal is dead."

"Oh, I know. I know," he nodded his head and lowered it for a moment before looking up, "In fact..." he frowned immediately the assassin flinching almost unnoticeable, "The entire city knows! Have you forgotten the meaning of subtlety?"

"A skilled assassin ensures his work is noticed by the many," Altair began to argue, but Malik was quick to interrupt him once again.

"No, a skilled assassin maintains control of his environment!"

"We can argue the details all you like, Malik, but the fact remains I've accomplished the task set to me by Al Mualim."

Malik sneered. The other was right about that. But still... He needed a reason to yell at him. This could be the only way he could get his anger out without crying, "Go then!" he pointed to the door, "Return to the old man. Let us see with whom he sides with!"

"You and I are on the same side, Malik."

His jaw was clenched, he could see the assassin standing there, his eyes focused on him as he fumed with anger, "We will never be on the same side, Altair. Not when you have caused so much pain. I can't. I will always be on the opposite side."

That hit a nerve. Altair's eyes glanced down as he struggled to keep his calm expression. "I'll take my leave then."

Malik held his tongue from snapping once again, and watched as the other left. He stood, rooted to his spot for a few minutes before reaching out and grabbing the first thing he could and throwing it against the wall, ignoring the cracking sound and kicking the wall angrily. He made to sit down on his chair, only to fall to the ground in the process and realizing that the object he threw was in fact his chair.

He stared at the broken seat which was now snapped in half from the impact against the wall, and panted as he blanked every thought out of his mind in an attempt to calm down. Why was he so mad? Was it the confidence Altair was able to show even after all that he had done? Or was it the arrogance he displayed? He sat up and sighed, brushing himself off and heading to the door. He needed fresh air, and to get out. This reclusive behavior was not good for him.

He climbed up and closed the gate behind him before he walked to the edge of the building. He hopped across from building to building before he arrived at a pigeon coop. He took a scrap of paper he had written upon days ago with the words "Altair's mission is complete" on it. Why he had done this so far in advance was beyond even himself.

"Perhaps I have more faith in him than I'd like to admit," he grumbled as he tied the paper to the birds leg. "Fly well my friend," he stated, letting it fly up into the sky and to Masyaf. He turned and walked to a ladder, climbing down and heading to the marketplace. He didn't particularly need anything, but it wouldn't hurt to browse and would give him something to do outside...

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><p>The next few days went by slowly for the young Rafiq. Nothing of excitement was happening, no assassins being directed, no drama to listen to... Why was it so quiet? He scowled as he sat on a bench, a young man sitting next to him glancing at him curiously as he let out a sigh.<p>

"Is everything alright, sir?"

Malik looked to the side at the innocent face that stared at him.

"I'm alright," he nodded, the man smiling and looking forward. Were the people of Jerusalem always this nice? He half wondered to himself as he watched the people smiling and talking to each other. They all seemed without a care. Was this what happened when the assassins rid the world of the horrible people? He smiled to himself and stood, glancing upward to see a bird fly in the direction of the coop. Was Al Mualim sending another assassin to him already? And for what? He headed to an alleyway and up a ladder, going to the coop and taking the message the bird had with it, and opened it.

'Altair is repenting quite well. Think about forgiving him in the future' it read in Al Mualim's handwriting. He crushed the paper in his hand and shook his head. Now even the master was telling him to forgive him? How? Why?

He scowled and walked back to the bureau the paper crumpled up in his hand. He hopped down inside, losing his balance and landing on his front, his arm blocking his chest from hitting the fall. He laid there for a moment before rolling over and glaring up at the sun in annoyance. "Why do you hate me so much, Allah?" he asked, his eyes still narrowed.

What could he possibly do or say? Nothing. He wondered if Majid was able to forgive him like the master was beginning to. He honestly couldn't see him being able to. But if he was, why? He chewed on his lower lip and watched as the clouds passed by overhead. Could Malik ever truly forgive Altair?

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><p>A week passed slowly with no other word from Al Mualim. Malik made it his goal for the week to do his job the way it was intended. No more holing up and reading scrolls and drawing maps. He stood up from his seat behind his counter, and walked to the entrance, closing up before he left.<p>

The streets he walked down were starting to become memorized and etched into his mind like a drawing. The longer he was staying here, the longer he was beginning to see how each and every street that seemed the same, really wasn't. For example: one street would have different people than the next, another would have shops, and others would have different characteristics that the other streets did not have. The more he started to see these differences, the more he was sure he was beginning to see the city's charm and loved it even more.

He approached a wagon that was on display selling off fruits, and began to look at all the different kinds. Some he had never seen before in his life. He ended up buying two pears, something he was familiar with, and headed down the street as he munched the morsel. As he headed down the merchant district, he couldn't help but notice there were fewer people around than previous days. This bothered him, to say the least.

"Excuse me sir," he gestured to a man who looked to be in his thirties, "Can you tell me why there aren't a lot of people out today?"

The man quickly looked around, then leaned in to whisper in his ear, "There's been a murderer on the loose lately. He's killed even children. It's best to stay off the streets if you can."

Malik frowned as the man rushed away quickly. This was something he needed to report to Al Mualim. Or at least... He inwardly smiled, making sure not to really smile. He could take care of this, couldn't he? He was sure other Rafiqs did side things like this, right? He nodded to himself, and headed back to the Bureau. He was going to need a few things before he began his investigation...

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><p>Malik closed his book and set it aside on the side table as Majid knocked on the door and walked in, holding Tazim, who was sound asleep. "Can you do me a favor?" his uncle asked, the Rafiq nodding his head and standing up. "Can you watch over Tazim for a few days? Altair has asked me to head to Acre to retrieve some things before his departure."<p>

"Of course," he reached out, scooping the boy up with his arm and holding the still sleeping child. "Can I ask you something?" he asked, the older man grinning and nodding his head, "When did you really truly forgive Altair for what he did?"

Majid thought for a moment then smiled weakly, "Honestly, the day Al Mualim was slain." Malik was shocked by this answer. He had forgiven him before his uncle? He watched as the other chuckled and crossed his arms. "I knew you still loved him, so I held in my feelings. I didn't want my opinion to cloud over your own."

It made sense to Malik, but the fact that his uncle never once lashed out, or showed any signs of being angry and unforgiven amazed him. He stared at him, admiring him, and waving nodding his head as the older man said his goodbye and left. He really wished he could learn from him, and gain his patients. It would be a challenge, but maybe he could learn to be like him.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>I feel like I've been making Malik of the past seem like a angry depressed individual more then I really should. I feel really bad Dx. Of course, I'm just thinking about how I'd react to everything, and how I think a reasonable person would react. Ah well, Malik will be given something to be preoccupied with soon enough...<p>

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Rindou Kiara<span>_: Awe -hugs- My heart bleeds for Malik as well. I feel so bad for him Dx

_Uccan_: Thank you so much! I am really glad that you like it. I was scared that people were going to get mad that I didn't speed things up instead of making it more realistic D: And I wish people were nice like that around here. I ended up finding my keys at the station, but only my keys and the lanyard they are attached to Dx

_Kiwi_: Thank you so much! I don't intend on stopping anytime soon :)


	24. Chapter 24

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 24

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><p>Malik tucked Tazim in Altair's old bed, flopping back in his own and watching as the boy dreamed on. He was still baffled that Kadar had a son without telling anyone. His loud, hyper, always happy brother was able to keep such an important secret. He smiled to himself, reaching out and picking up the book once again, playing with his quill for a few moments as he thought. What was life going to be like without Altair around here? Would things go haywire under his command? Would he be a bad leader? He frowned and shook his head. If he thought like that, then something bad would truly happen.<p>

He dipped his quill in ink, looked at the previous page he had written before flipping to the blank page, and staring down it. He was more than halfway done with the book from the beginning up till the point he was at now in life. He smiled to himself, shook his head once more and began to write...

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><p>It had been a few weeks of observing, and listening before Malik even made one acquaintance. The first ally he gained was an ex-assassin by the name of Abdul Ra'id. He had also lost an arm due to his duties, but when he was given the opportunity to become a Rafiq he declined and went off with his family to live normal lives in Jerusalem. Malik was shocked when Abdul told him that he was only one of twenty other ex-assassins in their area alone, and later met them finding that there were more that were perfectly fine and just left instead of leaving because of an injury. He wondered how Al Mualim looked when they denounced themselves from the Creed, but didn't bother asking in case he'd hit a nerve.<p>

The twenty men were knowledgeable, and very talkative about what they knew and the stories that they had to tell. However, Malik was sad to learn that Abdul was the only one from the group that was willing to help him out and spy on occasions. He knew that to be a successful mentor and leader in these parts he was going to need the numbers and people that were willing to do whatever it takes to get things done to further their cause.

Malik walked down the street heading towards the market street. He had just left the group of ex-assassins, and his mind was wandering. Would there be a reason for them to come back to the creed? No. He shook his head. He couldn't make them do something after all the things he was told. Their reasons for leaving were clear and rock solid.

He heard a yell, his head shooting up. "Leave her alone!" he ran to the end of the street, looking down an alleyway at a man who was being held back by two city guards, another guard holding a woman up by the front of her shirt. The guards were all laughing, the woman was crying, grabbing onto the guards arm, clawing and trying to be let go. "Please!" the man who was being held down begged, "Please let her go! I'll do anything!"

Malik couldn't watch anymore. He stepped forward, crossing his arm over his chest, frowning deeply, his brows furrowed to help give himself a more mean and intimidating look, "What do you think you are doing? Shouldn't you be doing your jobs instead of tormenting civilians?" he growled, the guards looking over to him, their smiles no longer on their features.

"Hah!" the guard dropped the woman making her gasp and grab her ankle in pain, "And what are you going to do about it? One arm, short... There is three of us. Who are you to tell us what we should and should not be doing, eh?"

Malik knew they weren't going to stop just because he said so. He sighed and shook his head as he pulled out his sword hidden beneath his robes, "I'll warn you once, stop and leave."

"I will handle him," the now alone guard stated as the two holding the man let him go, and walked over to back him up. Malik watched as the man ran over to the woman, helping her up and rushing out of the alleyway to get her to safety. "Are you suicidal, brother?" the man jeered, pulling out his own blade and pointing it to Malik.

"No, but it seems you need to learn some manners, my friend."

The guard lurched forward, swinging his blade going for the Rafiq's head. It was easy to dodge, spinning around and nicking his shoulder just under where the armor on his shoulder pads ended making the man growl and turn, re-pointing his blade to him.

"I'm not playing anymore. You will die like the dog you are." The guard ran forward, again making it easy for Malik to dodge, this time slicing at his back, making a gash through his clothes and skin. "What are you doing? Help me!" the guard gasped, his head turned, glaring at the two guards watching on the side.

They quickly scurried to his side, pulling out their swords, one's hand shaking in fear. It was obviously his first day on the job. Malik refrained from smiling as he jumped up, one jetting forward in an attempt to cut his leg, the Rafiq swinging his sword down hitting him on the head with his hilt, sending him to the floor, groaning in pain. The main soldier he was fighting before panicked, yelling as he put his sword away and sprinted in the opposite direction. Once the other saw he was basically alone, he threw his sword to the side, grabbing the man on the ground and rushing away as fast as he could.

"Look's like I've still got it," Malik mused, putting his blade back in it's sheath hiding it under his robes. He heard a cough, turning and looking to see the man that was here before, looking rather shy and embarrassed at being saved like that.

"Thank you sir, for helping my wife and I. May I ask... who are you?"

"My name is Malik Al-Sayf, brother, and it is not a problem. It was wrong for city guards to act as such and I enjoyed teaching them a lesson," he smiled kindly.

"If there is anything I can do to repay you... Please do not hesitate to ask."

Malik paused a moment. Maybe this man could be useful. Maybe he knew people that were willing to help him, be his ally and come with him when he called?

"I do have a request, but please, let us go inside to talk?" he suggested, the man nodding and leading him to his house that was not to far away. Upon entering, he noticed a few other men sitting at a table on the other side of the room. They did not make to greet, them, or acknowledge them in any way. "Do you know..." Malik started once they were sitting down, "If there are many able men and women in Jerusalem that are spirited enough to go against evil and corrupt people?"

The man's eyes twinkled knowingly as he sat back in his chair, putting his hands in his lap, smiling, "I do. What is your cause, Rafiq?" Malik blinked. He knew what he was? The man laughed and leaned forward, patting his shoulder reassuringly, "I know more about the Assassin's than I'd ever care to admit. My name is Khair al Din, my uncle was from your creed. He taught me many things about your ways, what to look for when looking for an Assassin in the crowds. I nearly joined until my wife was pregnant and I felt it would be wrong to abandon my child like that."

Boy that hit home. He half wished his father did the same. "I also helped the last Rafiq that was here in Jerusalem. Unfortunately he passed on. I was never sure there was a replacement until I saw you come to my aid. There are many men with me. Many men that are willing to fight against evil and corrupt men. More than you think."

"Amazing," Malik had no other words. How come the ex-assassins did not mention this man and the other men? Did they even have a clue about them? Would these men really follow him?

"I have seen you fight Malik Al-Sayf. I know you have been trained well with the blade. I will follow you, and I know many more will."

It was as if the man was a mind reader. Malik leaned against the armrest of the chair, and put his hand to his chin as he mused the idea. It was amazing to think that Malik could lead people against the people he had been fighting for years. This is what the Rafiqs did. They used the public to find out what they needed in case they did need an assassin to come in and take out someone dangerous and evil. Could he really do something incredible as this?

"I shall meet with the others later in the week. It is an amazing fate that we have met today, brother."

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><p>Malik met with the men a few days afterward. There were a total of forty, many more than he had thought just has Khair had said. All of them ready to do anything that Malik ordered. He watched them duel against each other, he watched them interact and converse, then ordered them to wait till Malik had orders for them and until then to patrol the streets and report to him of anything. It was like a whole new life. He knew coming to Jerusalem he was starting over, but he had no idea that he'd be starting over this much..<p>

Two days followed before anything happened. A group of guards were beaten by a mob of people after raping three women in the dead of night in their own homes. There were to many incidents happening with the guards. Why all of a sudden were they acting like this? Never in all of Malik's life had he ever witnessed such acts over and over that the men were allowed to continue. There were always some rules and some format and regulation that they had to follow, and punishments if not.

It wasn't until later that day, when his fears had really been met. Famir Talil, a close friend of Khair and one of the men following Malik, came to the Bureau with a grim face. Malik stood to his feet and rushed to his side, leading him to the cushions to sit down, the man wringing his hat in his hands as he struggled on what to say.

"I overheard something dreadful, Master Malik..." the man stated, running his hand through his hair. "It's about the horrible acts that the guards have been committing lately. I was minding myself, heading home after closing down my jewelry store, when I heard two guards talking. I couldn't help myself. I ducked down behind a crate and listened. They kept going on about how they wished someone would be more of a challenge. I did not know what they meant by that, but I continued to listen."

Eloquence was never Famir's strong suit. Though, Malik was patient as he was quiet for a moment, looking down in fear. It was as if he was scared a guard was going to come from the cracks of the stone covered floor and stab him on the spot.

"Then I heard it. They spoke of the Captain of the Guards, that man from out of the country. One of them said that he was the one that ordered them to wreck havoc. They said that the reason behind it was because they wanted to strike fear into the hearts of the people so that they are given more respect. We need to strike him down Malik, what will you do?"

His first real decision. He knew he needed Al Mualim's permission for something this big... He rubbed his chin and pulled out a piece of parchment, taking his quill and ink out scribbling on it for a moment behind rolling it up and handing it to the other man. "Take this to the coop. If it is in our favor we will take the man out ourselves. If not then at least we'll have someone out here to rid the city of the man."

Famir nodded his head, now seeming more keen on the idea of having someone else do it for him as he quickly scurried out of the bureau and taking to the roof to get to the pidgeon coop as fast as he could. Malik sat back in his chair and chewed on his lip. He really wanted this opportunity to prove his men could do something. Would Al Mualim grant him this desire, or would he send out an assassin... or worse Altair himself? He gritted his teeth at the thought. Would he have to come out yet again?

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><p>Malik set aside the book, stetching upward as Tazim jumped up and down the cot across from him. "Are you hungry?" he questioned, the boy shaking his head as he jumped down and ran over to his uncle, grabbing at his hand and shaking it.<p>

"I want to go on an adventure like you, Altair and Majid. Can you take me? Please?" he pleaded, using the best puppy eyes he could muster as he stood still, his toes pointed to each other, now hugging Malik's hand to add effect.

The older man rolled his eyes. Just like Kadar. It was horrible. "How about we stick close to home? Maybe play a game?"

"Game? What game?"

"Well, Hm... Let me see," Malik took his hand back placing it on his chin as he leaned back, "You could be the Master Assassin... and I the Templar Captain... seeking to destroy you!" he brought his hand up in attack position, the boy squealing with delight as he ran to the door, opened it and ran out. The older man laughed and ran after him, slowing himself to a mere jog so the boy could be ahead.

"I'll outrun you! Then attack when you aren't looking!" the boy called out, racing down the stairs, all while laughing.

Malik smiled, letting the boy have his fun by running in the wrong direction and headed down the training courtyard. He was half thankful that training was out right now so he could stop and allow Tazim to have his fun. "I wonder where he went? That Assassin sure is crafty," he mused, looking around, knowing fully well the boy was standing over him on the wall.

"Got you!" he felt a thud against him, falling to the floor on his back, laughing as he boy placed his hands on his chest looking down in the most adorable looking angry face the older man had ever seen. "What's your last words, Templar?"

"Please forgive me sir! I knew not what I was doing!"

"Never!" he ran his invisible sword into Malik's chest, the man making fake dying noises as he flopped back limp to fake his death. He laid there for a moment, the boy laughing till he realized that the other still wasn't moving. "Baba... it was only pretend," he shook him lightly, now frowning.

Once he was sure the boy was questioning if he was really dead, Malik opened his eyes yelling out as he flipped the boy over, him yelling then laughing as he reached up hugging him. "Baba don't do that!" he giggled and looked up at the railing that he was on top of when he was ambushing the other before.

Malik glanced up and blushed looking away, Altair peering down at him curiously. He didn't know what to say, so simply stood, bringing Tazim up with him, holding him in his arms, "Let's get something to eat, alright?" he asked the boy, who nodded his head, allowing him to go up and look at Altair in the eye.

"Malik the Templar, has a horrible ring to it," Altair murmured, the other rolling his eyes and heading to the back courtyard to get some food.

Altair sighed and leaned back against the railing, glancing up at the sky. Should he really go to the other countries? He knew that the Templars were threatening their men and allies out there... but If he could send some of his best men...? No. He shook his head and let out a sigh. He couldn't do that. He needed to do it himself. He glanced to the side, half glaring as Abbas came up next to him.

"Safety and peace, Altair," the man mumbled.

"Safety and peace Abbas..."

"You are leaving soon, correct? Malik will be watching over us in your stead?"

"Correct. Malik will do well in watching over the creed."

"I'm sure he will..." Abbas grinned, bowing his head slightly, then turning and heading away from Altair, who just glared at his back not wanting to pick a fight right then.

Whatever faith Abbas lacked, Altair sure hope he gained back while he was away. Malik would show him how good of a leader he could be. He just knew it.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>So sorry for the really slow update. I hope that Malik and Tazim's interaction makes up for it Dx. The next update should be relatively soon this time since I already have half of it typed out already.<p>

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Kiwi<span>_: I'm glad you like that. A lot of stories i've read don't really go into the fact that Malik was sad and mourning his brother. If I was in Malik's shoes I sure as hell wouldn't outright forgive him like that.

_Story Puppet_: I'm sorry you had to wait so long for the update, and hope you enjoyed this one D:

_Rindou Kiara_: I hold grudges depending on what was the grudge being held over. In this case, if I was in Malik's shoes my grudge would probably last years... haha. I'm glad Malik is a bit more forgiving than I am, but still holds his grudges well. :D

_Suckerpunch15_: This is true, but as I mentioned at the beginning I will have changed some details of the storyline to fit the story's plot. I'm not saying people won't die, but I'm also not saying that they do either. You'll have to see xD

_Novoux_: Thank you so much for saying so! I'm really glad to hear you are enjoying it so much :D I hope you continue to do so~


	25. Chapter 25

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 25

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><p>Malik was patient for the first day. Then the second. But by the third day of waiting for Al Mualim's reply he was growing restless. Sure, it took man a while to reach a destination, but did birds really take this long to get there and back? He wasn't entirely sure. He did not train pigeons, or know anything about how long it took them to fly or how often they rested. It wasn't till the fourth day did he receive anything at all. He climbed up the wall, and headed over to the coop to find a pigeon resting with a note tied to it's leg. He smiled and opened it, the smile immediately vanishing as he read the simple and short note: 'I'll be sending Abbas at once to take care of him.'<p>

Abbas? Why? He could not think of a single reason why Al Mualim would sent a complete dimwit to do something he knew that he and his men could handle. And how much longer was he to wait now? The man that he learned was named Adan Romero of Spain, was starting to act out himself. Not only were the guards terrorizing the town, but he himself was roaming about. Malik was informed that Majd Addin was even watching this from afar, as if it was some sort of spectacle to be observed. He scowled, walking back to his bureau and jumping down in anger, burning the note with a candle that he was using to give him more light for drawing out his maps. "I guess I'll just have to give him another chance..." the Rafiq grumbled to himself, rubbing the back of his head and blowing out the flame. "Who knows... He might have changed some. It's been a while...Right?"

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><p>Abbas arrived faster than he would have expected. Not even two days passed since he received word from Al Mualim before the man jumped down into his domain and sought knowledge on the Spanish ingrate. He was swift, not even bothering to greet Malik or stay and chat with him. It was odd, and even though the one-armed man never liked the other, it made him feel not important, and left out. The only one from his past that even bothered to act like he existed before he had received this job was Altair... He shook his head roughly before rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger. No, Majid was there for him too. He could not leave out his uncle.<p>

The assassin arrived back at the bureau a few hours later, and explained his plan to him about waiting in the courtyard. He explained that an informant tipped him off to Romero's routine before he went out to wreck whatever havoc he had in store that day. He would go to a courtyard near a Templar tower and pray. After praying, he would simply admire the same flowers. It would be the only sure way to assassinate him swiftly. He explained that he would give him a moment to pray before he snuffed out his life. Malik was, least to say, impressed with how far the other man had come, and gave him a feather.

The man stopped at the door after tucking away the white plume, and looked back at the Rafiq. "I was told that you are doing well at your job here..." he said very softly.

"We will have more time to speak after your job is finished," Malik stated simply, the man nodding in agreement then leaving. He didn't like shooing him away like that, not when he finally was making an attempt to show that he at least remembered him, but wanted Romero dead before anything else.

A few hours passed before Abbas came back, confusing Malik. Was the deed done? Why was there no bells ringing? If Altair could set off bells in his first mission with him, why did Abbas not? The man smiled and crossed his arms, obviously seeing the Rafiq's confusion.

"Adan Romero will be staying in his tower today. The Templar's spoke of a meeting that he will be attending till later in the night."

"I see, well in that case use the rest of the day however you like."

"How have you been Malik?"

Malik blinked, setting his quill down. How could he answer that? "As well as I can be, I suppose. What brought forth this grace that you have been given? You are not the same man I was partnered up with in Nazareth."

"I've been working with Altair. He's been helping me progress a lot," his answer was hesitant since it had to deal with the assassin Malik loathed.

"Ah" was all Malik could muster.

"He's repenting well, Malik."

"As he should."

"He's changing back to the way he was before."

Malik picked up his quill again and looked down at his nearly finished map. "Perhaps you should talk to someone who cares about that buffoon."

"I realize the pain he has given you, but you both were close. You were partners. Why can't you accept that he is trying?"

"You lose your arm, your job, your brother, your whole life and be willing to forgive him!" Malik threw down his quill and glared at him. "Have you ever lost a limb? Yes. You lost your father. But never did you lose him because of a stupid mistake from someone you love. You've never had to pick up your life and thrust yourself in a new life and be outcast because you can't perform as well without a second arm..." His fist was balled up, tears of anger and frustration clouded his vision.

"I am sorry if I offended you, Rafiq."

"Leave. And don't come back till the mission is done."

Without another word, Abbas left. Why was he, of all people, trying to convince him that Altair was to be forgiven? He bit his knuckle and stared down at the ink splatter that was on his paper from where he threw the quill and scowled, crumbling up the now ruined map and tossing it aside out of frustration.

Why did he have to be so angry? He rubbed his neck and stared at the cushions off to the side. Why did any of this have to happen? "Why Allah, why?" he asked, closing his eyes and sitting back in his chair, leaning his head back to face the ceiling. "This bad dream just needs to end..."

Malik jolted forward at the sound of bells going off. He rushed over to the entrance, shutting the gate and frowning at the sky. It was dark out? He blinked as he headed back to his desk. Had he fallen asleep? He must have. He wondered what time of the night it was, but sat down, waiting for the bells to stop ringing. Had Abbas gotten a chance to kill Romero?

He did not know how long he stood there, staring at the wall, wondering about what his life could have been like if Altair had not messed it up. He supposed that they'd be overseas, or even here at this moment taking out Romero. He bit his lip and slowly looked over to the side, the bells growing distant till they were not heard at all. He let out a soft sigh, then walked over, opening the gate and walking back to his desk. He'd give Abbas an hour to show up, else he would lock up and just head to bed.

He did not see him the rest of the night, locking up and sleeping. Even when he woke and opened the gate once again there was no sign of him. This troubled him. Did the fool just leave after his kill? Didn't he know he was suppose to report to him first? There was a soft thud, the Rafiq quickly turning his back and looking at the books behind him as he heard someone enter. He waited a moment, thinking it was Abbas, then froze at the voice he heard.

"Safety and peace, Malik."

He turned back and looked into the amber eyes of Altair, "Were it that the city was possessed of either..." he blinked, "Why do you trouble me today?"

"Al Mualim has marked Majd Addin for death. What can you tell me about him?"

Malik knew this day was to come. Romero was, after all, being coaxed by the false leader. He thought for a moment, before speaking again, "Salahuddin's absence has left the city without a proper leader, and Majd Addin has appointed himself to play the part. Fear and intimidation get him what he wants. He has no true claim to the position."

"That ends today."

Malik scoffed, "You speak too readily. This is not some slaver we're discussing. He rules Jerusalem and is well protected because of it. I suggest you plan your attack carefully, get to better know your prey."

"With your help I will," Malik felt a pang in his chest, "Where would you have me begin my search?"

"What's this?" Malik spoke without thinking his words through, "You're actually asking for my assistance instead of demanding it. I'm impressed," he could not contain the smirk that followed the glare that the assassin threw at him.

"Be out with it..."

"As you wish," he frowned once again as he looked at his face once more, "Here's where I would look. First, to the southwest," he pointed in the southwest direction, then to a map, "near the mosque. After that, head south of here," he pointed to another location on the map, the other tilting forward to look, "There are two locations that might interest you. The southernmost church is one," he pointed to a mark on the parchment, "The other is in the streets, near a synagogue."

"Thank you for your help, Dai." The word stung at Malik's ears. It was his position and title, but he couldn't help but furrow his brows at it.

"Don't foul this, Altair," he warned as the other man left the bureau. He watched the opening of the room for several more minutes afterward. It didn't hurt as much to see the other man. But why? He rubbed his chin and stared down at the map that Altair was looking at with him. What if he could forgive him?

He turned and took the book that he had given him on his last visit to Jerusalem and flipped it open, looking at his handwriting in the first page. He cracked a small smile and traced the lettering with his finger before closing it and looking to the doorway again. Abbas entered, and placed the feather on the desk, looking down.

"I apologize for what I said yesterday Malik. I have done the job. And repented for the way I spoke to you."

"As you should have. Very well then, I forgive you. Now go to Al Mualim. I shall write to him of your arrival back in Masyaf."

Abbas bowed his head, and quickly left, leaving the Rafiq alone once again. As he sat there, he caressed the spine of the book, staring down at the dried blood on the feather. He stood upright, put the book away then headed up to the coop, writing of Abbas's victory, and adding a side note at the very bottom in small lettering that he did not know if his master could read or not: 'I will try to forgive Altair. If he gives me reason to believe he is sorry and changed, I will.'

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><p>Malik let out a sigh as he stared down at the words he had been writing in the book. He slowly lifted his gaze as Altair entered the room, a bag situated on his back. The Rafiq immediately knew what that meant, making him sigh as he closed the book and stood, walking over to the other. "All the men know of the position you hold. I have all the faith in the world that you can do this job well," the assassin stated, reaching out and putting his hand to his cheek. "I'll miss you."<p>

"And I you," Malik took his hand in his and turned his head kissing his palm. "After this mission you are not to leave me alone. Do you understand?" he narrowed his eyes looking at him, the assassin laughing and nodding his head.

"I promise. Upon my return I will never leave you alone. May only death keep us apart," he smirked.

Malik reached forward, letting his hand go, and grabbed the front of his robes, pulling him forward to crush their lips together. They moved their lips, tongues soon greeting each other as they slid together hungry for each other. It wasn't until they both pulled back for air that Malik pushed him away, "Go before I chain you to a wall so you cannot leave," he ordered, the assassin frowning as a tear fell from the corner of the Rafiq's eye.

"I love you, Malik."

And with that, Altair left. Malik frowned, staring at the ground, not even wondering how long he stood there. It seemed like a century before Tazim opened the door, walked in and hugged his front, looking up at him with a said look in his eye.

"Master Altair left," he mumbled, Malik nodding, leaning down and hugging him.

"He'll be back someday," Malik whispered, rubbing the boys back as he sniffed and buried his face in his chest, trying hard to be strong and not cry. He let him cry against him, knowing fully well that the boy was crying for the both of them. He needed to be strong now, he needed to be the leader that everyone saw in Altair. He was now the master, and he couldn't show weakness now, not at the beginning. Not ever...

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>I wholeheartedly apologize for the lack of an update to this point. I had gotten distracted with other things till I had forgotten the real plot of the story. I had to hunt down my notes, re read the story and study everything I had to continue on. I promise never to delay like this again for the story, and I will finish it! Thank you so much if you have continued to follow the story. I appreciate it!<p>

Please review, I know it is a lot to ask for since I've been M.I.A. for a few months, but please give me all of your thoughts!


	26. Chapter 26

**The Story of a Rafiq**

**Chapter 26**

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><p>Malik knew that being a father, a leader over the creed, and a part-time baby sitter for Darim and Sef was not going to be easy. What he didn't expect was the lack of faith that the other Assassin's had in him. As he passed people in the courtyard, or while out getting breakfast he kept getting glances that told him how much they respected him. They glared, sometimes gave pitiful looks, looking at his arm as if he were a cripple on the street who could not muster any strength to do anything. He knew that was going to have to change, but how?<p>

He glared down at his porridge, waiting for the courtyard to fill up more, Tazim sat next to him, nudging him and trying to get his uncle to eat, but couldn't manage to do so. Finally, when he knew the time was right, he stood, placing his bowl down and marching over to Majid, who blinked up at him curiously.

"Is everything alright Malik?"

"Fight me."

"Excuse me?" People turned to look at them, confused, some looking at the now ex-Rafiq as if he were mad.

"Fight me. You are a master assassin, are you not? Do you dare back away from a challenge?"

Majid frowned and stood, crossing his arms, "Malik, what's your reasoning for this?"

"Just fight me." He knew his final strand of patience had snapped, and he did not mean to take it out on his uncle, but he knew that he was not going to gain any respect the way things were going. If he himself couldn't fight, why would anyone else trust his word or lead?

He walked over to the training circle and hopped over the fence, taking long strides over to the swords and grabbing two. He tossed one over to his uncle, the man grabbing the hilt with ease, looking at his nephew concerned. Why shouldn't he be? Malik had just called him out during breakfast and now everyone was staring, questioning if their leader had lost it. Why had Altair left this man in control of everything? He knew that was the question on everyone's mind as he glanced around at the faces that surrounded them. His eyes landed on Rauf, who raised a brow at him. If only Malik had a way to communicate to the other, to tell the man what he was doing.

"Are you sure you wish to fight?" Majid asked, keeping his blade lowered still.

"Yes."

The two got in their stances, briefly reminding Malik of his and Altair's first sword fight, then both lunged forward, their blades clashing as they began their dance. They side stepped to avoid blows, lunged forward to make their own. The battle was longer than any Malik had to endure for a very long time. Sweat perspired on his brow as he kept his eyes trained to the other, Majid sweating just as much as he concentrated on the movements. For a while it seemed like a dead even match before Majid's sword swat to the side, the older man staring at his now unarmed hand, stunned. His uncle never doubted Malik's skill as an assassin, and always knew he was well taught with the blade, but never did he ever think that his nephew could beat him.

The assassin's around them slowly started to clap as their shock subsided, the one-armed man smiling slightly as he reached his hand out to his uncle, who took his hand earnestly. "It is good to see your skill has not deteriorated. If I had offered to tie an arm behind my back I'm afraid I might have lost even sooner," he stated, grinning to show Malik he meant it as a compliment.

Malik nodded his head respectfully, then turned to look at the crowd, who had their eyes trained on him, anticipating what he was going to do next. Was he going to challenge another man? What was in store?

"If any man doubts my skills, please step forward. But I will have you know that I do not intend to back down. Master Altair left me in charge because he knows that I will move forward motivated and determined, just as the fight you just witnessed. I will do my best, listen to words of others and keep the creed close to my heart as we further our cause. I repeat, does any man wish to challenge me?"

No one answered, which relieved Malik. Not because he was worried for another fight, but because that meant that the people trusted him now, or to a degree. He would continue to do his best, but now that he proved to them that he was not a cripple, he felt confident that he could lead these people just as Altair had told him. He caught Rauf's eye once again, and gave him a smile, earning one in return, a silent 'Well done' was passed between them as his old classmate turned and headed back to the gates to stand guard as he usually did.

"Should have warned this old man of your intentions," Majid stated, laughing lightly as the crowd dispersed and went back to what they were doing before.

"I was angry, I apologize."

The older man nodded his head and looked to Tazim who walked over to them looking up meekly. "You really are a great assassin Baba," he complimented, grinning as Malik reached out and ruffled his hair.

"You will be a great assassin too as long as you keep your training up."

The boy nodded his head, then rushed back to the courtyard, no doubt going to finish his breakfast before going to his novice classes. Majid patted Malik on the shoulder, before he too headed back to the courtyard since he was a mentor to the young.

He looked up, noticing Abbas watching him from the side. Anger swelled up in his chest, but he held it inside, turning and heading up to the room on top of the library that Al Mualim use to reside in. He walked to the desk, then glanced to the front of it, grinning slightly as a memory flooded his mind, the ghosts of the past staring up at the desk in horror, scared to be told that he was doing badly. He remembered once being so scared of a failed mission that he clung to Altair's hand, staring hard at the floor, waiting for Al Mualim to speak.

He rubbed the back of his head before turning to walk behind the desk and sit down. He pulled out the book from his robes, then opened a bottle of ink and dabbed his quill in it, and continued where he left off...

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><p>"What news, Novice?" Malik asked, grinning to himself to see the appalled look on the assassin's face as he entered the room.<p>

"I am not a novice," he countered, his eyes narrowing very slightly.

Malik 'tsked' slightly before continuing, "A man's skill is defined by his actions, not the markings on his robe." Was this really the Rafiq's way of trying to find reason to forgive the other? He honestly didn't know.

"We can trade barbs, or do Al Mualim's work. It's your decision," he stated, making Malik glare at him this time.

"Then be out with it!"

"Jerusalem Regent, Majd Addin is holding a public execution not far from here. It's sure to be well guarded but it's nothing I can't handle. I know what to do."

Back to square one. A muscle twitched in Malik's jaw as he rolled his eyes, "And that," he stated, refraining from sounding even more judgmental than he already was, "is why you remain a novice, in my eyes. You cannot know anything, only suspect. You must expect to be wrong, to have overlooked something. Anticipate, Altair. How many times must I remind you of this?" Was the other a child once again? Did they go back in time, and were still in Masyaf in their novice classes?

"As you wish. Are we done?"

"Not quite. There is one more thing," Malik stated. He had almost forgotten this from the rage that he was feeling for the man in front of him. He should have known better than to lecture the idiot instead of getting to the point. "One of the men to be executed is a brother, one of us. Al Mualim wishes for him to be saved. Do not worry about the actual rescue; my men will take care of that. But you must ensure Majd Addin does not take his life."

"I won't give him the chance," Altair stated confidently.

"So I hope..." Malik trailed off and produced a feather, sliding it forward, the assassin taking it, then leaving without another word, passing two hooded men who were waiting near the entrance.

"Are we to go with him?" one of the men asked, Malik shaking his head.

"No, keep a distance from him. Find your way into the execution and save our brother. If the novice messes up try your best to still save him. I will not have another good man murdered because of him," he looked down, the two bowing their heads.

"Safety and peace, Rafiq," they chorused, Malik bowing his head and repeating the same words to them, and watched as they departed.

A few minutes passed before he found himself walking to his room and laying on the bed. It would be a few hours at the very least before anyone returned with any news. He was feeling tired with worry, and also a bit of fear. What was he scared of? He bit his lower lip and let out a sigh. Of course he knew that answer. He was scared that Altair was never going to change. Sometimes he seemed like he was, then others... He shook his head and nuzzled into the cushion letting out an exasperated breath. "What am I going to do, Kadar?" he whispered against the fabric.

He felt a pang in his heart, and clutched his chest, tearing up. He missed Altair more than anything. He missed hugging him. He missed sleeping next to him. He missed the way he smelled after he washed up after a long week of travel. He missed his childish attitude that he only showed around him. He missed everything that he was. He clung to the fabric of his robes and sat up, throwing his cushion across the room and yelling out in frustration. Let the people outside hear him, the neighbors, whoever! He just wanted Altair back.

After he got all his frustration out, he walked out of his room, and flopped down in his chair. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? He rubbed his forehead and glanced up as an assassin walked into the room, his hood donned over his head so he could not see who it was. He knew better than to think it was Altair, this man held himself high, as if he had lived a while and knew his stature in life.

"Safety and Peace, Rafiq," the man spoke. Malik knew that voice. He frowned and raised a brow, repeating the words back to him, watching him carefully. The man let out a soft laugh, then removed his hood, revealing that it was Majid.

Malik stood, immediately crossing the room and pulling his uncle into a hug, "How have you been, Uncle?" he asked, pulling back and looking into the eyes of one of the few men he could really trust with his life.

"Well, and yourself?"

"Tormented..." he half laughed, running his hand through his hair. "Altair is on a mission to kill Majd Addin as we speak."

"And the fact that he is here is bothering you?"

"Slightly," his brow twitched slightly as he sat down in his chair, his shoulders slumped forward slightly in an almost depressed state.

"It's why I am here actually. Al Mualim requested I check up on you myself. Of course, I wanted to anyway, but it was a perfect chance... Have you had the opportunity to mourn?" he asked, slowly.

"Plenty... I suppose I am just having a hard time adjusting to this new life. I keep finding myself wishing for the past..."

"I understand the feeling..." That was right. Majid lost Tamir as well as Kadar. He knew exactly what Malik was going through right now, and even though he himself did not lose a limb, he still lost a part of himself. "But everyone mourns differently, correct? It is hard," he nodded.

"I believe there is something wrong with me, Uncle..." Malik slowly looked up at Majid's questioning gaze, "I have accepted my brothers death, and the loss of my appendage... But it's not that I am mourning about that as much anymore. It's... Altair. I miss him. And him being here makes it even harder to accept that he has changed. Abbas and Al Mualim have told me he is repenting, and yes I know he is sorry for what he did, but my heart still aches. I feel I cannot just mourn this and move on..."

"It's because you love him. That feeling won't just go away," Majid started, choosing his words wisely, "He may have changed, and he may be repenting, but it's who he ends up in the end is what we have to look at. If you think about it, he may have just been lost, and is in the process of coming back to us. And when he is back to the way he was, would you be able to accept him?"

Malik was silent for a moment before he sighed and shook his head, "I do not know the answer."

"And you can't. It's all about the healing process that is going on in your own heart, and the strides he makes in life. He may take a step closer to your heart, or a step away. Time will only tell."

At his uncle's words Malik was suddenly feeling a light sensation. For the first time since before the incident at Solomon's Temple, he felt at ease and relieved. Majid understood him, and knew exactly what to say. He lifted his hand and bit the side of his finger, before lowering it and looking up at the other man, who was smiling kindly to him. "Thank you," he whispered, the other nodding his welcome.

The two jumped as the sound of bells erupted from outside. Malik stood and walked to the entrance, closing the gates and then walking back into the room, looking to his uncle who smirked slightly. "What?" the Rafiq asked, raising a brow as the other shrugged.

"I've never been in a Bureau before when the gates were closed," he stated, making Malik smile and lean back against his desk.

"You must be tired from your journey. If you'd like you can rest in my room."

"I'll take you up on that offer, thank you." The older man stood upright, then entered through the room that Malik pointed to, closing the door behind him to give him privacy with his dreams. Now the only thing that Malik could do was wait it out till the bells stopped ringing...

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><p>It was a good hour after Malik opened the gates before his two men entered, giving him the news that the mission went well and that the rescued assassin was hidden away safely and being tended to the few wounds that he had. The Rafiq told them to wait out for his next orders, not praising them, but unable to hide the glow of pride he felt for finding the right men in the city to be on his side. He walked over to his desk, and flopped back in his chair, suddenly feeling tired from all his emotions from the day.<p>

It wasn't long after that Altair could be heard dropping down into the Bureau. He couldn't tell if the other was going to be cocky, or modest. He was hoping the latter. He did not feel like snapping at him, he didn't have the energy to.

"Jerusalem needs a new ruler," the other stated as he walked in the doorway.

"So I have heard," Malik stated simply as he stood, looking over the unfinished map on his desk. What more could he say to the other?

"What's this?" Malik's nose twitched in annoyance. "No words of wisdom for me? Surely I have failed in some spectacular fashion."

Was he looking for a prize? A congratulations for doing his job? Well Malik was not going to indulge him, not at all. "You performed as an assassin should, no more, no less. That you expect praise for merely doing as told however, troubles me."

"It seems everything I do troubles you." Did he hear his voice shake at the end? He looked up, unable to see his eyes because of his hood, and his lower half of his face revealed nothing.

"Reflect on that. But do so on your way back to Masyaf. Your work here is done."

Malik watched as the other left with haste, holding his tongue as he refrained from calling him back. He rubbed at his eyes and nodded his head, sitting back down and staring at his desk, his brows furrowed. He could see it now. Altair was trying to change, trying to go back to the way he was. Malik was simply snapping at him for every little thing. He was picking the fights. He wasn't giving him a chance. And now who knew how long it was going to be till he saw him next. He frowned and for the first time in a while, clutched the stump of an arm, his eyes narrowing to glaring slits.

Kadar would not have wanted any of this. He would not want all the work and effort to make a lasting a true relationship to go down the drain this easily. Yes, his brother lost his life, and yes Malik lost his arm, but even so the younger Al-Sayf brother would never want this to prolong this much. He'd want forgiveness, especially since Altair was obviously trying to seek that forgiveness. The Rafiq looked up at the ceiling. There were so many emotions running through his mind, and all were conflicting. He wanted a break from all of his thoughts. He bit his tongue and shook his head.

All he knew he could do at this point was to bare with it, and keep moving forward...

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>Hopefully the two chapters back to back make up for the lack of an update for a while. I really am sorry, even though I have said in the last chapter, and I really do hope you forgive me OTL. We are getting closer to the end of the younger Malik, and with that I'll be adding more older Malik in the next chapters.<p>

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><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

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><p><span>Ookamikuro<span>: Don't worry~ Malik won't die, I can promise you that. The story is progressing on the plot of the game, but with certain details altered (Malik's death being one of the many alterations) So you don't have to worry about that x3

Please review~ It lets me know what I am doing right and wrong, if you liked it or hated it, etc. Any response is something! x3


	27. Chapter 27

**The Story of a Rafiq**

**Chapter 27**

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><p>Months passed on before Malik even thought about his book up in his corridors. He was very busy keeping track of assassins and what missions they were assigned, making sure the novices in the lower classes that were excelling were properly promoted, teaching Tazim how to fight properly with a blade, and taking care of Darim and Sef. The more time he spent with the twins the more he learned of how kind Maria was, and would often think about how perfect she was for Altair. He felt bad, but whenever he would get a certain look she would coax a smile from him and tell him not to worry, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.<p>

It was soon that the twins were walking, before Malik realized that it had already been a year since Altair left. He sat at his desk, staring down at a pile of papers that were in a messy stack. Tazim had slipped into his uncle's lap an hour prior, and was doing a good job of not moving as he watched his troubled look.

"What's wrong Baba?" he finally asked, tiring of seeing the older man look the way he did.

Malik blinked and looked down at the nearly seven year-old, who peered up with curious eyes. "It's nothing that you should be troubled with."

"Why don't you write anymore?"

Malik blinked and tilted his head to the side, "I write every day."

"I mean in your book. You were less troubled when you wrote about the past. Did you finish it?" Malik blinked once again and looked up. Ah right, his biography, how could he have forgotten? "For my birthday next week I want you to read me a part of it," he stated, the older man chuckling and ruffling his hair.

"You sure that is what you want?"

"Yes, Baba. Please?" Malik could have sworn that the boy's eyes grew twice their size as he gave him the puppy dog look, his lip pouted outward as he looked up at him.

"Oh alright. I suppose it wouldn't hurt." He could get in a story about Tazim's father this way, so it would be killing two birds with a single stone. There was a bell that was rung, indicating that it was time for lunch, making the boy hop off his uncles lap and hold out his hand expectantly. Malik took it, then followed him out of the room and to the courtyard. The two got their lunch, which consisted of a small loaf of bread and a type of stew, then headed off to their spot in a pile of hay, and proceeded to eat.

"You have classes after this, correct?" Malik asked, Tazim nodding his head as he ripped off a piece of the bread and soaked it in the stew.

"I'd much rather spend time with you, Baba. Even if we just sat in silence..." his brows furrowed as he looked down at his bowl.

"Is something the matter?"

The boy hesitated then shook his head, "No, just.. I'm having trouble making friends..." Tazim had just been promoted to a new class the week before. He was quickly learning the ways of being an assassin, and took his lessons very seriously for being such a young age. But because of this he was placed in a class with novices that were two or three years older than him. It was hard for him to relate to any of them, and in turn became antisocial and would stick to the back of the class.

"I know it's rough. I was in the same boat as you when I was your age, except the situations were slightly different."

"How so?" the boy looked up at his uncle, ready for a story, his eyes practically begging for one.

"Well, your father and I were in the same class, but he was the social one, not I. He would make friends easily, while I stayed back and just continued on with the lessons. I was patient, yet still jealous of his ability to make friends so easily. I was paired up with Altair for a sword duel, and made my first friend. Fate has a way of doing odd things like that. I have confidence that if you stick through it you too will make a friend that you can rely on."

Tazim nodded his head, and looked up noticing that the novices were grouping up, and stood, Malik taking his bowl. "I will see you for dinner, alright?" the boy nodded, and walked off without another word, reluctantly heading to his classes.

"Master Malik," Malik looked up as he stood, his eyes landing on Abbas's face, making the ex-Rafiq raise a brow. "May I ask you something?"

"You may."

"Did Altair happen to take the apple with him?"

"Indeed. I assume it's to ensure that other's do not get their hands on it," Malik stated, smirking as Abbas's nose scrunched up, obviously getting the hint that the other was mocking him. He set the two bowls in the pile, then turned to him, keeping a straight face so not to show what he was thinking. "Why do you ask?"

"Curiosity I suppose..." Abbas trailed off, and slunk off to the side, making Malik shiver and shake his head.

What was he up to? It had to be something... The man ran a hand through his hair and headed up to his corridors, walking over to the bed, flopping backwards, and staring to the ceiling. It was the first quiet moment he had, had to himself in a while, and it felt odd.

He looked off to the side and blinked seeing the book he was writing in a year ago sticking out from under a messy stack of papers and scrolls. He flipped through the pages quickly, then stopped at the front page and traced each letter with his finger, letting out a shaky sigh.

"I miss you, you stupid novice," he mumbled to himself, staring at Altair's handwriting. What was he up to? Was he aware that his sons were talking and walking now? How much longer was his mission going to take? Malik took pride in his patience while growing up, but now that he was being made to wait like this, he felt like he had none at all. He glanced up at the door as Majid walked in, holding a scroll in his hand. He gave him a smile, then stepped forward holding it out to him.

"This arrived for you from Damascus. It's not urgent, so take your time on it." Malik nodded his head and set the scroll down next to him, watching as Majid sat down on the side of his bed. The ex-assassin stared at him a moment, before he sighed and let out a soft laugh, "The men approve of you, Altair would be proud."

"I suppose so."

"You use to write a lot. Tazim has been worried."

"I've just been busy."

The silence soon followed, like it normally did to most of Malik's conversations. He let out a soft sigh, before flipping to the last page, and rereading where he left off a year ago. The truth as to why he never took the time to write anymore wasn't fully because he was busy. But of course, Majid probably knew this already. He reached out, patted his shoulder, then stood, and headed back out of the room to give him some privacy. He pulled out his quill and ink, and for the first time in a year began to write in the book once again...

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><p>Malik frowned as he watched outsiders enter the city gates. He stood on the roof top closest to the entryway, making sure to stay hidden behind a pillar as he gazed at the men in armor. He hadn't seen men wearing armor as this in a while... Not since Solomon's Temple. He let out a huffing sigh, and looked behind him as one of his men approached him, ducking down so he also wouldn't be seen.<p>

"Who are they, Dai?"

"They seem to be Robert De Sable's men. Although I do not see the wretched man himself, who knows... He might be under one of their masks..." his voice trailed off as he spotted a certain uniform. It was different from the others. His eyes narrowed, his man edging forward and pointing to the same man and looking back at Malik, his eyes wide, and knowing. "It's him..."

"What do we do Malik?"

"We have to send word to Al Mualim. We need Altair here. He should, by now, know how to handle him."

"And what of his revenge?" The two men turned and walked on top of the roof tops, jumping across gaps as they made their way to the pigeon coop by the bureau, "What if the man's eyes are still clouded? What if he brings us to ruin? All that we have worked for here since you came to us."

"We have to take this chance, brother. I have seen it, he is changing for the better. Other Rafiqs in other cities praise him. Al Mualim has seemed to have already deemed him worthy of forgiveness. I too, must do the same."

They said no more as Malik took a piece of parchment from his robes and held out his hand for a quill that the man gave him, then held out a vial of ink, which Malik dipped the quill in then scribbled out his message to Al Mualim.

"Be ready..." Malik whispered, his eyes leaving the fading figure of the bird, after he set it free to flight, and landing on the other man's brown orbs, "If we do not have word from Al Mualim in time we may need to take action beforehand..."

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><p>It was two days before he received word from the master. Luckily nothing had happened since he sent word, but it was troubling that there was no word as to why Robert was here. He paced the bureau often, and by the time Altair had finally arrived, he knew he was too eager to know what exactly was going on. He stood at his desk, staring down at the wood before his eyes shot up, his lips nearly curving into a smile before he contained it and spoke, "Safety and peace, Altair."<p>

"Upon you as well, brother," the assassin replied, his eyes lifting to betray his slight surprise at Malik being the first to speak kindly.

"Seems... fate has a funny way with things," Malik mused, grimly smiling as Altair bit his lip and stepped forward more.

"So, it's true then. Robert de Sable is in Jerusalem," the malice on his tongue was hot, almost as hot as the malice on Malik's mind.

"I've seen the knights myself."

"Only misfortune follows that man. If he's here it is because he intends ill," his fists clenched, "I won't give him the chance to act!"

"Do not let vengeance cloud your thoughts, brother," Malik raised his hand slightly, the other's head lowering once again, "We both know no good can come of that."

"I have not forgotten..." he let out a breath before lifting his head again, his hands relaxing, "You have nothing to fear. I do not seek revenge, but knowledge."

Excellent. Just what Malik wanted. He was unable to contain his pleased smile this time, and peered at him as he once did years before, "Truly you are not the man I once knew."

"My work has taught me many things, revealed secrets to me... But there are still pieces of this puzzle I do not possess."

Malik frowned again and cocked his head to the side, raising a brow, "What do you mean?"

"All the men I've laid to rest have worked together, united by this man. Robert has designs upon the land, this much I know for certain. But how and why, when and where..." he paused, noticing that Malik's brows were knitted together in confusion, "These things remain out of reach."

"Crusaders and Saracens working together?" he asked.

"They are none of these things, but something else. Templars."

"The Templars are a part of the Crusader army," Malik stated, already knowing this fact.

"Or so they'd like King Richard to believe. No, their only allegiance is to Robert de Sable in some mad idea that they will stop the war."

Malik shook his head. It all seemed like just a story, or a false rumor, "You spin a strange tale..."

"You have no idea, Malik. But tell me where they've been seen; I should be after him before he slips away."

Malik wasn't sure if what Altair was saying was truth or not, but he had never been one to chase after something as elaborate as this without having proper and good reason. He nodded his head and thought a moment before answering, "Three places I can say for certain," he brushed aside a scroll and pointed on the map, "West of here, near both a guard tower and a hospital. And to the southwest," he pointed again, "at the church of the Holy Sepulchre. See what you can learn. I will do the same." He needed his own confirmation of this.

"I'll be quick as I can," he made to leave, only stopping as Malik called out to him before he left the room.

"Stay safe, my friend," he watched him smile, then leave, Malik rubbing his brow and following him soon after, but turning to the north, to where one of his spies were, watching the entrance. "Any news?"

"None, Malik. But you seem troubled. Why is this?"

"Altair has come up with a troubling tale, and I am not so sure I doubt it. What do you know of the Templars?"

"They roam the city as we speak, but I know not of what they are here for. I shall keep my eyes and ears open for you, Rafiq."

"I appreciate it. Thank you. Send word to the others as well, see if they know anything."

As if on cue, the man nodded then snapped his fingers, a man scampering up the wall and leaning in as the man whispered in his ear. He gave a nod, then was off, leaving both of them behind as Malik turned also, and headed back to the Bureau, awaiting Altair's return...

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><p>Malik glanced up from his book, looking into the eyes of Abbas, who looked at him, his eyes narrowed very slightly. "Where is the apple, Malik? I know you have it somewhere. It was a lie, correct? That Altair had it?"<p>

Malik had lost his temper with this man. He was done, and finished with his snake-like attitude, "Leave now Abbas, I am done with this nonsense. Altair has it, I do not know what more you want me to tell you."

"Tell me where it is! We must learn to control it for ourselves, like Master Al Mualim did. Think of it-"

"No," he walked forward, the man stumbling out of his room. Malik gestured to one of the guards at the end of the hall and pointed to Abbas, "Take him to confinement for two days. May this be a lesson to you. Do not doubt my words again. I will not lie, and nor do I intend to change people's minds by force. It isn't human, and it isn't right..."

The guard took Abbas' arm with next to no struggle from the other man, and led him away. Malik let out an exasperated sigh before he rubbed his eyes with his fingers, thankful for at least two days of some sort of peace...

Or so he had thought...

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>Bah I know I said I was going to hold off on some past Malik snips, but I figured it might be best if I did go by my original plan and keep a steady pace until time is all caught up.<p>

How are you guys liking it since my return? Hate it? I won't know unless you review Dx I've only heard back from a few people (which I appreciate a lot!) and have had a few story alerts and faves. Even the simplest review can let me know what's going on in your minds!

I appreciate it x3

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><p><strong>Review Response:<strong>

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><p><em><span>EvilCooper626<span>_: It has been forever since I last posted v_v and I feel awful about it. I am glad you are continuing to read on! To answer your question, yes Tamir and Majid were lovers. I never really outright stated it, only had Malik assuming they were. They were very private with their relationship because of the fear that they would be split up or threatened (much like Altair and Malik were).


	28. Chapter 28

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 28

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><p>It was a few hours before Altair had made his way back into Malik's bureau, not that the Rafiq had expected him to find out things in the blink of an eye. As soon as he dropped down, Malik's eyes eagerly looked for any sign that Altair had information. As soon as their gazes met, he knew. "You've the scent of success about you, brother," he stated, raising a brow.<p>

Altair's head nodded in response as he stopped in front of his desk, "I've learned much about our enemy."

"Share your knowledge, then. Let us see what can be done with it."

"Robert and his Templars walk the city. They've come to pay their respects to Majd Addin," Malik's brows rose, but he dared not interrupt. "They'll attend his funeral, which means so will I."

Malik stared at him a moment before shaking his head, "What is this, that Templars would attend his funeral?" his brows furrowed together in confusion.

"I have yet to divine their true intentions, though I'll have a confession in time. The citizens themselves are divided. Many call for their lives. Still others insist that they are here to parley, to make peace."

"Peace!?" Malik shouted, his hand laying flat on the bureau desk, turning pale from being pressed down so hard.

"I told you. The others I've slain had said as much to me."

"That would make them our allies. And yet we kill them," Malik stated, his eyes narrowing as he let his hand lift and rest at his side once again.

"Make no mistake, we are nothing like these men. Though their goal sounds noble, the means by which they'd achieve it are not. At least..." the assassin paused to look to the side, "That's what Al Mualim told me."

Malik's mind was blank. It sounded like something the master would say when he was trying to hide a vital detail away from novice's. But they were nothing of the sort. Altair was a master himself, and Malik, although demoted to Rafiq, was up there with him for a time. He let out a sigh and looked back up into the amber eyes of the other, who peered at him, "So... What is your plan?"

"I'll attend the funeral and confront Robert."

The Rafiq nodded his head, "The sooner the better. Fortune favor your blade, brother."

Altair stood there a moment, before he stepped closer, putting his hands on top of the desk, confusing the Dai for a moment, "Malik..." he spoke his name softly, like he did in the past, which made his heart jump into his throat, making it unable to say anything back, "Before I do, there's something I should say."

No. Don't say anything. That's what Malik wanted to say. "Be out with it," he stated instead, his eyes shifting to the side, before looking to the other once again.

"I've been a fool."

That... Wasn't what he was expecting. He blinked, and cocked his head to the side slightly, "Normally I'd make no argument, but what is this? What are you talking about?"

"All this time..." he grimaced slightly, "I never told you I was sorry. Truly sorry. I was too damn proud. You lost your arm because of me. Lost Kadar... Tamir. You had every right to be angry..." he stared into his eyes, revealing his sincerity, making Malik get lost momentarily.

"I... do no accept your apology," he said slowly.

"I understand," Altair looked down, hurt.

"No, you don't." Malik waited till he looked back up before he continued, "I do not accept your apology because you are not the same man who went with me into Solomon's Temple. And so you have nothing to apologize for." Finally the words he had wanted to say were out.

"Malik..." Altair stared at him, doubtful if he was telling the truth.

"Perhaps if I had not been so envious of you, I..." he looked down, never having said these words outside of his own mind. "I would not have been so careless myself. I am just as much to blame."

"Don't say such things."

"We are one. As we share glory of our victories, so should we share the pain of our defeat. In this way we grow closer. We grow stronger. I did not see this before. Only put blame on you..."

"Thank you, brother."

"Rest if you need to, Altair, that you might be ready for what lies ahead..."

Altair nodded his head, and made for the door, before turning back around once again. They made eye contact, making Malik's eyes falter and look down as the other stepped forward again, "There is something I must do... before I go. This is no ordinary target... And you may be mad at me... but..." he leaned forward, grabbing the front of his robes with both of his hands, yanking him forward, their lips crashing together.

Malik was shocked at first. What was happening? When he felt the other's lips move against his, his own reacted, his head tilting to the side slightly, his mouth opening giving Altair the chance to invade his mouth with his tongue. The Rafiq groaned slightly, from lack of closeness with another in so long, caressing his tongue against the others. He momentarily forgot what was going on, reaching forward and yanking the other a bit closer, to press against the desk, grabbing the back of his hood with his fingers.

They both pulled back, panting slightly, the assassin peering at his ex-lover with a mix of sadness and want. Malik stared back, his eyes revealing the same emotions. "Go now, before I have my way with you and we are too late," he whispered, letting go of his hood and pulling back, making the other lose his grip on his robes.

Altair nodded, and leaned forward again, kissing his forehead, "I still love you Malik. Always will."

Malik wanted to cry. He nodded his head and pointed to the door, "G-go," he stuttered, mentally cursing as the other grinned, and turned away, leaving him to wait, and pray that the mission would go on without fail.

Of course, that was not going to happen. He was back an hour later, looking panicked as he looked above, obviously paranoid about being followed. The streets were filled with rioting people, screaming of the chaos that happened at Addin's funeral. He knew of the failure, but still Malik stared at him, confused of the other's reaction, unable to even voice out that he was concerned before the other yelled out, "It was a trap!"

"I had heard the funeral turned to chaos. What happened?"

"Robert de Sable was never here. He sent another in his stead. He was expecting me."

"You must go to Al Mualim!" Malik countered, rushing from behind the desk, looking at the other, up into his wild eyes.

"There is no time," he retorted, shaking his head, "She told me where he's gone. What he plans. If I return to Masyaf, he might succeed, and then, I fear we'll be destroyed."

"We have killed most of his men," Malik argued, without really hearing his full statement, "He cannot hope to mount a proper attack. Wait..." he paused, not registering what was said, "Did you say 'she'?"

"Yes!" Altair threw his hands in the air, "It was a woman! Strange. I know, but that's for another time. For now we must focus on Robert. We may have thinned his ranks but the man is clever. He goes to plead his case to Richard and Salahuddin, to unite them against the common enemy... against us."

"Surely you are mistaken," Malik shook his head, "This makes no sense, there two men would never-"

Altair cut him off, "Oh! But they would. And we have ourselves to blame. The men I've killed, men of both sides of the conflict, men important to both leaders. Robert's plan may be ambitious but it makes sense, and it could work."

"Look, brother..." Malik was conflicted. He had to go back to Al Mualim. Without their master's permission... it was unheard of. Was Altair reverting back after that apology? After their kiss? "Things have changed. You must return to Masyaf. We cannot act without our master's permission. It could compromise the Brotherhood. I thought... I thought you had learned this."

"Stop hiding behind words, Malik!" Altair yelled, slamming his fist against the desk, angrily, "You wield the creed and its tenets like some shield. He's keeping things from us, IMPORTANT things! You're the one who told me we could never know anything, only suspect. Well I suspect this business with the Templars goes deeper. When I'm done with Robert, I will ride for Masyaf that we may have answers. But," he paused and looked at him, his anger depleting, "perhaps you could go now."

"I cannot leave the city," Malik shook his head. No. He couldn't... He looked to the side, his mind racing with what was wrong, and what was right, and what he knew Altair was saying.

Altair let out a sigh, the Rafiq looking over to him, causiously, "Then walk amongst it's people. Seek those who served the ones I slew. Learn what you can. You call yourself perceptive; perhaps you'll see something I could not."

"I do not know... I must think on this," he shook his head, unable to really know what was going on, but wanting to understand.

"Do as you must, my friend. But it's time I ride for Arsuf. Every moment I delay, our enemy gets one step ahead of me."

"Be careful, brother," Malik stated, walking around his desk and embracing him, not willing himself to say anything more.

"I will be. I promise," Altair hugged him back, before pulling back and vanishing through the entryway...

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><p>Malik heard a knock on his door, setting down his book and quill and standing to answer it. He blinked when he saw the masked face of Rauf, whom he could see was smiling underneath the fabric, "Hello Master Malik. I have two letters for you," he stated, handing both of the scrolls over to him.<p>

"Thank you, brother," he stated, taking them, looking down at them curiously before looking up at the other once again.

"How are you doing?"

Malik considered the question then nodded, "Well, and yourself?"

"Well, aside from the trouble Abbas is causing down in the dungeon..."

"What's he up to now?" the older asked, not even bothering to hide the scowl on his lips.

"He's been trying to spread lies... but so far the guards keep having to keep his mouth shut by force. Don't worry though, none of the lies will turn to rumors, I will make sure of that." Malik was relieved and nodded his head, the other bowing his head slightly, "I will take my leave now. Safety and peace, master."

"Safety and peace."

Malik watched him leave and walk down the hall before he opened the first scroll, his face lighting up, immediately recognizing the chicken scratch handwriting that could only belong to Altair.

_Malik,_

_How are you doing? I hope the novices are learning well, and everything proves to be little challenge for you. I have faith in you that you can handle any of the problems that might arise, but even if you need a shoulder or two I know Rauf and Majid will stand at your side no matter what. _

_I think about you and the twins every day to the point where it is sometimes a distraction. I am getting no where here, and I find myself frustrated, and only able to clear my mind when I think of how much the two are learning from you. _

_I can't believe it's only been a year. It feels like a lifetime. Does it feel the same to you? Now that I am given time to write what I want to you I find it difficult and I am unable to think about what I want to say. I love you Malik, and I expect what you are writing in the book I gave you to be finished and ready for me to read by the time I return._

_Allah knows how long that is going to be..._

_Altair_

Malik must have read the small letter at least five times before he rolled it up tightly and tucked it in his pocket. How long would it be? A few more months? Years even? He cringed at the thought of more years without the other and sighed, looking down at the other letter, and opening it, frowning at it almost immediately. Who knows why a scrap of parchment was wasted on this meger message.

_Malik,_

_Sorry, but I am leaving. Darim and Sef are asleep now in my room. Take care._

_Maria_

How cold, and just when Malik was really warming up to her. He didn't bother to roll it back up, simply tossed it to the side, and headed out the door. How could a mother leave her children like that? He climbed up two sets of stairs and entered the hall that was seldom used, usually only for women, and headed to the last room in the hall, opening the door. He walked over to the bed, the two one-year olds sleeping, holding each other, Sef having tear stains on his face. He sat down, making Darim open his eyes, and sit up, his amber colored eyes peering up at him with curiosity. He always seemed to have a look of wanting to say something, but unlike Sef, rarely spoke at all. He knew nothing of babies, toddlers, or anything, so he didn't know if it was normal or should be worried about.

"Mama gone..." he looked down, his brows furrowed together to indicate stress. This made Malik gulp as he reached out, the boy crawling into his lap and hiding his face in his robes.

"I got a letter from your father today," Malik stated to hopefully divert his thoughts. It seemed to work a little, the boy looking up, the curiosity back in his eyes. "He thinks about you both often, and he's hopeful to come home. Unfortunately, he doesn't know when that will be."

"You no leave, Malik..." the boy grumbled, his thoughts going a mile a minute as he hoped he was saying the right words.

"I won't leave you, no. I promise." Darim understood, nodding his head and leaning it against him once again, slowly going back to sleep. This broke the man's heart. Darim spoke. Not only did he speak for the first time since his first few words, but he was seemingly understanding what Malik said, and could understand that Maria left, and probably wasn't coming home. He ran his hand through his hair, staring down at the boy, a troubled look on his face.

Until Altair came home, these boys were now his. Maria was gone, and now he was left being the father figure of three, and the master of an entire brotherhood. It was all too much to happen all at once, but Altair was relying on him. He bit at his lip and nodded his head. He was going to finish the book for Altair's sake, raise his brother's boy, and the twins the best as he could, and he was going to lead the brotherhood forward. No matter the costs he would do it.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>It's getting closer to a part I don't but have to do. q_q So very close -hides -<p>

The next chapter might be the last of the past Malik stories. Depends on how long it gets, if too long I'll split it up to two chapters.

Thank you guys still for your support. This story would not have been able to make it this far without you! With that in mind, please please review! I appreciate each and every one, and want to know what I need to work on, what you like, what you hated etc. Thanks guys!

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>UchihaNa:<span>_ Thank you so much, it means a lot! I am so glad to hear you are liking the story :D Makes me really really happy :3 and yes xD Malik is left with a lot on his plate now~ Poor guy.


	29. Chapter 29

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 29

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><p>Unfortunately for Malik, it was next to impossible to write with everything he had going on. He had to listen to reports, send assassin's in to investigate or assassinate a tyrant, watch over the novice's and their progress, take care of Darim and Sef (both of which ended up being more of an handful than he originally thought), and still had time to eat and sleep for a few hours. Everyone kept him busy, which wasn't always a bad thing, but in this case seemed to be.<p>

He laid on his bed, the twins sword fighting over him now both nearly three and a half years old. He was too exhausted to move, and just stayed put while the two had at it. Tazim wouldn't be around for a little while, he was nearly nine years old and was friends with many of the other assassin's in his age group so he made a point to stay out of Malik's hair.

Majid walked into the room, the two boys stopping and running over to cling to the older man's leg, giggling and staring up at him happily, "Uncle Majid! We learned how to hold a sword!" Sef exclaimed, holding up his wooden blade.

"Oh my! I'm going to have to watch my back, aren't I? You two are going to outwit me and beat me in a duel soon enough," he grinned as the two boys ran over to Altair's old bed and jumped on top, resuming their fight. "Tired out, master?" he teased, sitting down next to him, the one-armed man groaning in response. "You've been busy, I'd be tired too if I was in your shoes."

"How did Altair do it?" he grumbled, moving his arm to lay over his eyes.

"Well, he didn't have three children to watch over either..." Majid stated, and looked over to the boys, "Hey boys, what do you say to going and bugging Uncle Rauf, huh?" The two twins looked to each other and cheered, running out of the room to go hunt down the assassin. This usually meant Majid had something private to talk to. "We found Maria..."

"Oh?" Malik sat up and looked to him, curiously.

"Well, what's left of her anyway. The Templars had her put to death for being a traitor. She apparently went to them in hopes to join their ranks again. They used her for a year then killed her."

"It just doesn't seem right. She would not have left the twins to join them again..."

"I thought that too... But it seems it is true..." There was a long pause of silence before Majid coughed and looked to the side, "Also... Abbas has seemed to vanish with Swami and a few other assassins. They did not tell anyone of what they were up to, or where they were going."

"I'll send word to the Rafiq's to keep an eye out for them, and if they see them to let me know."

"It's rather strange, don't you think? I know Abbas was having some conflict with the fact that Altair had left with the apple, but why would he act out to this degree? I thought surely after he stopped trying to spread those lies two years back that he had finally learned of his error."

"It's curious. But Abbas has never been able to think things clearly. Perhaps he has convinced himself and the novice's who followed him of some foolish lie and sought out to have it proven. If that's the case we may never have to worry about him again."

"Rather cold, don't you think?"

"I've reached my limit with his idiotic mind. How many years have we known him? He's never once made sense."

"I suppose you are right," the older man nodded and smiled, reaching out and picking a book from the side table, "You stopped writing again, right?"

"It's almost done... but I have not had time to write in it."

"How about I watch the boys, allow yourself some time to get it done. That way you can finally be done with it, and won't have to worry about it anymore."

"I'm not worried," Malik protested, taking the book from him and peering down at it, "But... it would be nice to have it finished."

"Then it is settled. I'll go collect them now. Hm, actually. Would it be alright if I took the boys to Jerusalem? Let them see another city for a change."

"That would be fine. You sure you can handle them?"

"I handled you and Kadar, didn't I?" he grinned, then walked out without another word.

Malik wasn't worried in the slightest about leaving Majid with the boys. Now all he had to worry about was Tazim, but even then he wasn't worried. The boy grew up much like Malik did, with the same ambitions, except he was a bit more social like his father. He was very proud of the boy, and was happy to call him his son.

He opened the book to the last page and read over it. He really was close to the end. He pulled out his quill and ink, and began once again for the first time in two years...

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><p>Malik was troubled. Nothing was making sense. Nothing at all. Why was all of this happening? He bit at his thumb as he paced the bureau before he finally made up his mind. He needed to go to the last place he knew where Robert de Sable was. He packed a bag of clothes and food before climbing up the wall and locking up behind him. He headed first to the pigeon coop, where he took a small cage and a pigeon and put it inside. He needed some way to tell his men what was going on.<p>

"Malik, what's happening, where are you going?" one of his look outs asked as he neared the city entrance.

"I need to see something. Tell the men I will be back, also tell the first five men you see to meet me at the stables. I am headed to Solomon's Temple to check something, and might need backup" he explained, the man nodding and rushing off to do as he was told.

The Rafiq stepped out of the city, and walked to the stables to retrieve a few horses. He paid off the man and had the horses walked outside and tied to a post as he waited for the men to come. They were swifter than he though, and was pleased to see five of the men he knew were strong and loyal. They mounted their horses, Malik handing off the cage to be looked after by one of the men, and set off immediately. They had no time to waste. If they found anything, anything at all that backed up any of what Altair had said then they were going to set off to Masyaf and help him...

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><p>They made it to the temple in record time, not stopping for any reason (except bathroom breaks every so often). They trekked inside the catacombs carefully and were happy to see that they were completely deserted. Malik told the others to wait outside once they were sure they were alone, and ventured in, coming across the route that Kadar had last walked. This caused a jerk in his emotions making him tear up and lean against the wall for support.<p>

Yes, he had forgiven Altair for his wrongdoings, but now he was here. He staggered down the hall till he snapped out of his mini wave of emotion and jumped across beams and heading down the hall, climbing down the ladders and landing in the same cavern that Kadar had lost his life in, and he getting the blow to his arm that caused him to lose it. Did the Templars bother to bury his brother after he escaped? He looked to the side and felt his heart drop a skeleton laid off to the side, faced down in the dirt. It had been a while since his death, could the bones be his?

Malik closed his eyes and shook his head. No. It couldn't be his brother. Just couldn't. He stepped forward and headed down a hall that lead to a room with a makeshift bed to the side. He looked around, and found a book (much like the one Altair had given him for his birthday), hidden in the withered hay pile. He opened it, and frowned, the English language written cleanly on the pages. It was a good thing he bothered to learn some for the sake of reading and research, but some of the words were foreign to him. He skimmed through the first half of the book before stopping on a page, seeing a name.

"Al...Mualim," he spoke it out loud and frowned.

_We met with the master assassin Al Mualim today. Or should I say ex- assassin. The fools still think of him as their leader, however all he wishes to do is have power. What a corrupt man. Someone I can get along with. He's helping us with our search for the apple. I can only hope that we really do find it. _

It was short, but said so much. He flipped the page and continued on.

_Al Mualim has warned us of a meddling assassin by the name of Altair Ibn-La'Ahad. The boy thinks he knows what is going on, and suspects the master of their brotherhood of some ill practice. If only he knew the whole picture. I would very much like to rub salt in the wounds of this man when he finds out just how much the master was betraying what he believed in._

He turned the page once again.

_We met with the assassin's today. Killed one, not sure of his name, and probably another (they looked to be brothers). But the one I'm more interested in was Altair. He was so stuck in his ways, it was delicious. The funny part about the whole thing was the anger in his eyes. I wonder if he will ever really know the truth?We lost a few good men because of this man. And now I wonder if Al Mualim really was on our side, or was he playing us as fools in order to get the apple? We will see._

_We were assured that Al Mualim is still on our side, but unfortunately the brother of the man we killed is still alive. He lives in Jerusalem now, so he should be out of our hair mourning the loss of that pathetic excuse for a man. At any rate, we are to move on. Al Mualim has the apple in his grasp, and we can now stop searching and calmly wait our next course._

He skipped a few more pages till he reached the last page, and read over it:

_Al Mualim has betrayed us. We are leaving to meet with the Richard and Salahuddin to hopefully join forces and fight against the Assassin fools. I only hope that things will go right so that we are left with little to no trouble to deal with._

And the rest of the book was blank. His heart hurt. Al Mualim was a traitor. This was all just as Altair had suspected. He put his hand to his chest as he stood, staggering out of the room, the book in his grasp as he made his way out of the Temple. Before his men could ask, Malik mounted his horse, wrote on a piece of scrap paper that they were heading to Masyaf to aid Altair, tied it to the pigeon and set it free.

"Al Mualim is a traitor to the brotherhood..." Malik whispered, the men looking at him with wide eyes, "We ride for Masyaf. We must assist Altair. We must save our people."

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><p>Upon arriving to Masyaf Malik immediately noticed there was something strange. The men dismounted their horses, and headed inside, seeing all the people, staggering about, heading in the direction of Masyaf castle.<p>

"The light!" a man screeched next to Malik, pointing forward, his wide grin showing only madness. As they made their way up to the castle, more and more people rambled on about a light, about a master that would lead them to it. Was this the power of the apple that he had delivered to him the day of Kadar's death?

"Do you seek the light?" an assassin novice stood in their way, his hands perched on his sword at his side, causing Malik to ready his own.

"You are under a trance, please snap out of it, brother!"

"You must seek out the master's light!" the man yelled again, pulling out his blade and pointing it to Malik, "You will see it. Or you will be struck down!"

Before the man lashed out, a group of more assassins stepped forward, facing Malik and his men, their blades pointing their way. It was easy to strike them down, as if they were all lifeless dolls or puppets, and the group moved on, up the hill. He briefly wondered if Altair was here already, but his mind blanked on the question as he heard some fighting from below, and turned to look.

It was Altair, fighting what was seemingly the same men that they had just struck down moments before. He pulled out some throwing knives and shot them down, dealing non fatal blows, but enough to keep them down for a time, making Altair look up in confusion, "Altair! Up here!" he called, waving his hand to indicate he should come up and join their group.

"You picked a fine time to arrive," Altair half grinned, making Malik smile back smugly.

"So it seems."

"Guard yourself well, friend. Al Mualim has betrayed us."

"Yes. Betrayed his Templar allies as well."

"How do you know?" Altair raised a brow, looking at him curiously.

"After we spoke I returned to the ruins beneath Solomon's Temple," he paused to shiver before he continued, "Robert had kept a journal, filled its pages with revelations. What I read there broke my heart, but it also opened my eyes. You were right, Altair. All along our Master has used us! We were not meant to save the Holy Land but deliver it to him. He must be stopped!" Malik's brows furrowed in anger as he stared at the man he loved, awaiting him to agree with him.

"Be careful, Malik. What he's done to the others, he'll do to us given the chance. You must stay far from him."

That was not what Malik wanted to hear, making his frown deepen in disgust, "What would you propose? My blade arm is still strong," he swiped his arm to the side to demonstrate his claim, "and my men remain my own. It would be a mistake not to use us!"

Altair thought a moment, then pointed to the puppet-like men scattered across the land, who staggered around, fighting at will, "Distract these thralls then. Assault the fortress from behind. If you can draw their attention away from me, I might reach Al Mualim."

Malik nodded. It made sense to send in one man instead of a whole group, "I will do what you ask, Dai," he promised.

"The men we face, their minds are not their own. If you can avoid killing them..." he trailed off, looking sadly to the side.

"Yes," Malik agreed. "Though he has betrayed the tenets of the creed, it does not mean we must as well. I'll do what I can."

"It's all I ask. Safety and peace, friend," he looked hesitant, as if he wanted to embrace Malik, but did not, only started to head back up to the castle.

"Your presence here will deliver us both," Malik whispered, watching his back for a moment, then turning to his men. "You heard him. Let us split up into two groups. Famir," he gestured to a tall, broad man who held a long blade, "Take Qusay and Raja to the back of the castle and cause a disturbance there. Much like you liked to do in Jerusalem if you can. And remember, spare all those you can."

The three nodded and rushed to the side, making their way around. He turned back and faced the two remaining men, who looked about making sure they weren't going to be attacked by the controlled men, "Sadiq... Yazid," he stated their names, then looked at the men around them, "Let us do the same here. If we do well it will make things easier for Master Altair, and we can save time and lives."

Sadiq was the first to move, rushing off the edge of the cliff and landing on his feet like a cat, rushing around, and getting the men to follow him as he made his way to the entrance to the city, but made sure to keep a good pace so not to lose the interest of the men. The stragglers were left to Malik and Yazid. Yazid rushed down the hill after Sadiq, distracting the ones who were not interested, leaving Malik with the ones that were near the castle. He raced up the path and to the entry way to the place that once was his home. His eyes landed on a familiar face, Rauf who stood at the entrance like a statue. Near him stood Majid, who looked just as still, both of them looking distressed as they stared at the ground.

He dared to walk near, praying that they would not awaken and attack him. To his relief they did not, simply stayed put, only moving as they breathed. He looked to the side, raising his sword to block a blow from an assassin he did not hear, and deflected his every lash out. He dodged to the side, wrapping his arm around his neck and tightening his grip, the man struggling as he blocked his ability to breath, then soon fell limp as he passed out. He allowed him to drop, checking to make sure he was breathing again before looking upward, a glowing yellow light coming from what seemed like the garden. He only hoped that Altair was alright.

He managed to knock out four more assassins who came close to him before he headed back down to check on his men. It was then he noticed the men who were in trances mere minutes before. They stood, rubbing at their eyes as if just waking up. "Malik!" the Rafiq looked back to see Majid rushing down, waving his hand to him, "Al Mualim...he's dead. Altair killed him."

That was all that needed to be said. He took a deep breath, then whistled, his men rushing up to meet him. "Yazid, stay here and help Altair if he needs anything. When you are able to, come back home to Jerusalem."

"Malik, what about you?" Majid asked, his eyes widening in confusion.

"My place is in Jerusalem. Altair knows this."

"You can stay. We need you Malik," Majid protested.

"No... You need Altair. Rely on him, Uncle..." he looked back at the three men that joined him once again from their job behind the castle, "We ride home..." he told them. They nodded and followed him as he bowed to his uncle, and swiftly left without another word.

Yes, he could have just sent his men home without him, but he couldn't face the reality of what was happening... Not now, not yet. As he mounted his horse, he looked back up at the city, silently saying goodbye to the man he loved, and turned heading up the hill to head to Jerusalem once again...

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>And there is the end of the past Malik since it ends right where we started way back in chapter 1. It's been a long while since I started the story, and it's amazing that I've finally finished that part. We still have a way to go though, we still have quite a bit of ground to cover with "present day" Mal~<p>

I hope the chapters lately aren't too dull. I haven't been too confident about them, but then I also don't want to skip full on years and years either. I figure a few years here and there won't be too terrible, and still will show to progression of whats going on and junk.

Also on a side note... I have to search the random-est stuff when I'm researching for my stories. To find out if Kadar's body would be bones or still decaying I had to look up how long it took for a body to decay, then I also had to search (for the last chapter) when babies typically started to talk in short sentences. If someone I did not know, or did not read my stories were to look at my search history they might think I'm a bit weird xD

Thank you guys for the alerts, and reviews! They mean a lot and give me the feed back I need to continue on without fail~

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Rindou Kiara: <span>_Unfortunately Altair has no way of knowing what is going on with Malik, since Malik can't write back to him. As for Abbas, he's just a snake, and when here are snake-like characters there are problems sure to arise.

_eliina:_ I understand perfectly. School can bring a lot of things to ones schedule in making it really busy. As for Maria, I can't much say yet. I'd be spoiling it if I did xD;


	30. Chapter 30

**The Story of a Rafiq**

**Chapter 30**

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><p>Malik stretched as he looked down at the book. He flipped through the pages before closing it and setting it on the side table as Tazim stepped in the room. He kept his head low, not looking to him as he sat on his bed. This was strange for the boy to act like this, giving Malik cause for concern.<p>

"Are you alright?"

"Jalil said you are promoting Abbas's son before me..." his brows furrowed as he slowly looked up at his uncle, trying not to look mad, but also failing at the same time.

"Of course he told you that. What kind of a leader would I be to show you favoritism, Tazim?" Malik smirked, looking down as the boy stood, his arms still at his side.

"I work hard, Baba. You cannot rob this of me. You cannot know of how much this insults me!"

Malik looked up, and stood, looking down into the eyes of the boy he raised. He was silent before he broke out into a smile, "You couldn't possibly be promoted after him. I planned to tell you the news of your promotion once you returned after dinner, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you now."

"So... I am being promoted?"

"Indeed. Congratulations, son. Your teachers are quite impressed with your hard work, as am I." The boy smiled with a sense of pride. He stood confidently, and now that he knew that his father and his teachers could see his skill, he was relieved. Malik patted his shoulder and headed to the door, "Come with me, son. I suppose it won't hurt to promote you a day sooner, either."

The two headed down the hall and down the flight of stairs, heading to the armory. They entered the shabby room, that still brought ghosts of memories of Altair and himself walking about inside. He stepped forward to the bracers, and took a hold of one without a hidden blade and a set of new throwing knives. Tazim's eyes glittered with glee as he held the knives in his hands, spinning one between his fingers skillfully.

"Master Malik?"

The two looked back at Rauf, who had his mask down, and looking more annoyed than anything else. The master turned and looked to him fully, tilting his head with eyes that told him to speak. "Bahij Sofian has now disappeared. Master Jalil spoke of him being restless, and when he went to check on him in his room he was gone. They had searched most of the castle and have yet to find him."

"Off to join his father, no doubt..." Malik scowled, looking off to the side, and meeting Tazim's eyes. "Tazim, take your partner Amro and search around the castle for any sign of him. He might be long gone, but you never know when someone will make a mistake when they are in a hurry."

Tazim nodded, rushing out of the room to find his partner. The master stood still a moment, rubbing his chin as he looked to his friend with a worried glance. "What do you think Abbas is up to?" he asked, the other man shaking his head.

"I am not sure, sir. I do not like it. I feel we are missing a clue, or a vital piece of information. I cannot shake the feeling that something we do not want to happen will be happening soon."

"And no news of Altair and his whereabouts?"

"None, sir."

He sighed and rubbed the back of his head, walking out of the armory. He kept any words he had left to himself, keeping silent as he headed to the gates, and stared down at the city below. It all seemed like a bad dream; that's just how his life had been up till then. Ever since the death of his brother and Tamir it has been a spiral downward. Yes, there were moments when he felt happy once again and was glad to know Altair and the other assassins, but fate would always bring uncertainty and make him feel as if he knew nothing at all.

"Nothing is true; Everything is permitted..." he whispered, the words now ringing more true in his mind than ever before. He glanced back at Rauf once again and watched the different emotions that were on his face. He was worried about what was yet to come, as was he. He heard footsteps and watched as Tazim waved slightly, keeping formality as they headed out the gates.

"I wish the future were more clear," Rauf whispered, turning so he was facing the castle, "I'll keep my ears clear and my eyes open for any information regarding Abbas. Something is happening, there has to be."

Malik nodded in his agreement, and watched as the man left. He turned his attention to the town, watching the people of Masyaf as they walked around, living their lives. Many of them had a lot to do with the assassins and what they went through so did they. He wondered what life would be like if he had stayed in Acre. Would he become a law-abiding citizen who was destined to carry out his life without a care about the higher truths of the world? Would he end up like he was now, with the assassins but with less responsibility like Rauf and Majid? Whatever the case, he was where he was right now, and there wasn't anything he could do about it. He let out a sigh, turning and heading up to his study, awaiting his nephew and his partner of any news.

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><p>It was nearly a full day before the two returned. The boys couldn't find any trace of them other than a man who pointed to the north, saying that he was traveling to the road that led to Aleppo. Nearly forgetting their age he quickly pulled out one of his maps and ran his finger across the surface, gazing down at it carefully. He was about to ask them to travel to Aleppo and see if there was any trace of the deserters, but stopped himself when he gazed into the eyes of his nephew. He was so young, and so ready to do anything that his uncle commanded. He smiled, then stood up straight, musing at how much he had grown in these short years.<p>

"You may take your leave now. Thank you both, I shall take it from here."

He watched the two boys leave, then motioned to the figure in the shadows, who walked forward, face covered, and hood up. "Make haste to Aleppo and see what you can find out about Abbas, Bahij, and all of the other deserters. If you can capture one that would be even better. I will send a message to the Rafiq of your arrival." The assassin nodded his head as Malik scribbled down a note, and tied it to the leg of a pigeon and set it free through the opened window. "Safety and peace, Fakhir."

"And to you as well, Dai."

The man left quickly, leaving the master alone, and full of thought. What would Altair do if he were here? Would he be doing the same thing? Something better? He frowned and sat back in his chair, rubbing his forehead as he let out a aggravated groan.

He reached out and grabbed a piece of paper, and a quill, dipping the tip in ink before letting his hand glide over the paper, stopping only to re-apply ink to the tip of the writing utensil. When he was done he let the feather drop to the side, picking up the paper and staring at the head shot drawing of Altair. It wasn't as perfect as he was, but it at least gave him something to look at.

His eyes welded up with tears as he stared, biting his lip as he tried to control his emotions. He wanted his friend back. He wanted his lover back. A tear escaped his eye as he set it down and wiped away the wetness from his eyes. He needed to be strong. He could not afford these loose emotions

"Please come home soon, you stupid Novice," he whispered, balling his fist and pressing it to his forehead. "Please..."

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><p>It was a week of restless quiet before he received a bird from the Rafiq in Aleppo. It was just a simple note telling him of the assassin's arrival, and nothing more than that. It was a bit frustrating to not know anything, but he knew that these things took time and quite a bit of effort. He was relieved when he was told that Majid was home, the twins and his uncle could at least distract him from the constant nothing.<p>

"Did you boys have a good trip?" Malik asked, walking into their sleeping quarters, smiling wide as the boys were dressed in their novice assassin garments, standing at attention as he entered the room.

"We did sir, yes," Sef stated, bowing his head slightly, making Malik blink with confusion.

"Your...replacement did a number on the boys, that's for sure..." Majid mumbled, looking out the window, seemingly agitated as he looked over to Malik.

"How so?"

"The man's worse than Al Mualim when he was angry. Every time we came back for the night he would scold them till they called everyone 'sir' or 'master' and stood at attention. I was glad every time Darim made a point to aggravate the man, because if he didn't I certainly was going to."

"I see..." Malik blinked, looking to Darim who smiled wide, looking away to make a mock attempt to hide his pride. "Well do not worry boys, it will be a long while till you will have to address me as 'sir' or anything, and even by that time your father might be back and there will be no need." Majid's jaw tightened at this, the boys looked to each other almost hurt at the mention of their father. "Did I say anything wrong?"

"Baba is dead," Sef stated, looking down at the mention of this.

"Excuse me?"

"The Jerusalem Rafiq, as soon as he found out who their father was, made a point to tell them lies of Altair's death. He spoke of time, and where he was. He said that since there was no word from him lately that he was more than likely killed."

"Preposterous," Malik spat, and knelt down, looking at the twins, who peered at him both wearing looks of fear and sadness, "Look. Your father is alive and well. I can promise you that. If there was any news of your fathers death I would have told you by now, alright?"

The two nodded, Darim's hand sticking out to hold his brothers and smiled confidently, "Told you Baba was alright," he stated, and looked back to Majid, "Right, Master Majid?"

"Indeed you did," he grinned. "Darim's turning out to be...very spirited." Malik knew that this was just a way of Majid trying to be nice with his words.

"Much like his father when he got to speaking his mind," the younger man stated, making the other smile a bit wider. "I'm really sorry that the both of you do not get to know him yet. He is a really great man."

"We know," Sef stated, smiling proudly. It was amazing that these kids were already so knowledgeable, yet so young. Altair would be proud, and if Maria had stuck around like she should have, she would have known this as well. The two were going to be very bright assassins, and an excellent addition to the Brotherhood and their cause.

"We should go get something to eat, don't you think?" Majid asked, the two boys nodding and rushing out of the room to head down to the courtyard. The older assassin was about to leave, when Malik took his arm a moment, the older man blinking and looking to his nephew confused, "What is the matter, Malik?"

"Abbas's son has disappeared now. Tazim and Amro did their best to track him, but only came up with a lead to Aleppo. I have sent Fakhir to the city to see if he can find anything about where the deserters have gone."

Majid was silent for a moment, before he nodded and rubbed his stubble-covered chin, "All this over the Apple that Altair possesses? I know it is powerful, but Altair would never use it like Al Mualim had..."

"I do not know what is going on in that man's head, all I know is that both Rauf and I are worried."

"As am I. I wish there was some way to know what he is planning. Has their been any word from Fakhir since you sent him?"

"None other than the fact that he has arrived."

"Well, we shall see if there is anything we can find out. For now, let us go down and eat our meals, and enjoy each other's company. No news is good news, or so they say."

"Yes, but ignorance can lead to death as well, my friend..."

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><p>Nearly a month had passed before Fakhir had returned from Aleppo. It was unfortunate that the only clue to Abbas's whereabouts was a beggar man, but he had only seen the man once. There was nothing, and the weeks of waiting and watching the city left the assassin frustrated with the lack of knowledge. Majid was keeping him sane with words of comfort, telling the one-armed man secrets he learned while in Jerusalem, and spoke of how his men were doing. A few of them were planning to come to Masyaf to serve under him as part of the brotherhood, this was a comforting fact to look forward to.<p>

The Templars were not moving forward with any plans, at least as far as Malik and his sources knew. They were at a standstill ever since the death of Robert de Sable, which both relieved Malik as much as it worried him. When they were not active they were usually planning, and when they were planning they tended to become a bit of a problem later on. He only hoped that whatever was going to happen with them was going to remain a standstill.

But there was nothing Malik could do about anything. Only minor tyrants showed up in the cities, and were easy to bring down. The assassins were constantly training and recruiting, but with little action to test out their skill, it was bittersweet to be ranked up. He felt his confidence slipping, and knew that the other's were feeling the same. What could he do? He bit his lip and paced his study now understanding why Al Mualim sent him and Altair on fake missions to end in failure. It was all simply something to do in a time of silence.

There were a lot of things that Malik could see the truth of now that he was in Al Mualim's shoes. Not that he could find any justification to betraying the brotherhood, of course, but the subtle things that he did while they were growing up. It all made sense to him now. He glanced upward and gave a small smile to Rauf as he entered the room. He handed him a small scroll, and bowed his head as he left the room. Even Malik's friends were quiet. Were they too seeing this long period of rest as a sign of Malik's weakness?

He unrolled the scroll and sighed with relief, the chicken scratch handwriting from his lover on it's surface. It was a short note, but made him smile none-the-less.

_I was thinking about that night in Jerusalem in the stables. We laid on that hay embracing, not really caring about anything other than ourselves. I miss those times, and I hope we can be like that again soon. _

He rolled it up and tucked it away in his robes with the previous letter, then running a hand through his hair letting out a breath he was holding while reading it. There was no bad news, but also no good news. Maybe Majid was right, maybe no news really was good news.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>No news is never good news :I I remember waiting a week for exam results, everyone had gotten theirs but me. I just sat patiently before finally confronting the professor only to find out she lost my exam and I had to take it over again ;~;<p>

On another note...

I have to ask. For AC3, does anyone else feel that there are no possible pairs for Connor other than the ladies? owo; Georgie is old looking, so its weird. Paul Revere is a creeper. Achilles really is too old... :I I can't have fun with this game writing wise ;~; Oh well OTL. What are your guys feelings on it?

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><p>Thank you all for your support! Please review and tell me what you think whether it is good, bad, or neutral I would like to hear from you!<p>

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Rindou Kiara:<span>_ I'm so glad you like the two boys. I wanted to portray them as Altair's less serious side. And also, I had a lot to work with for what I was given from the game how we are given that gap of time between Jerusalem and Masyaf and what Malik tells Altair about his visit to Solomon's Temple. I'm glad you liked the outcome :D

_Galen Hithwen_: I am happy that you are enjoying the story :) And thank you for the review for chapter 15 as well. That hay pile is my favorite xD;

_Ookamikuro_: Than you so much. I used the lines to stick to the story line as best as I could, but I also altered them every so often to meet the story line. I'm really glad you liked it.

_ChaosShadowWalkerWolf_: It makes me really happy to see you have enjoyed it so far. I did not want to make just another story with a ton of smut and not as much story line (those stories tend to bother me Dx) and went to writing something I know I would like to see, and something my friends would like to read. I'm especially happy to hear about the grammar. I am my own editor most of the time, so I try to be as picky as possible, but I know I am not going to catch every little thing. Thank you so much for the feedback! It means a lot.


	31. Chapter 31

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 31

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><p>Five years passed quickly, leaving Malik on the edge. His feelings of Altair had not changed, but the feeling that he was never going to come back constantly flickered in his mind, leaving him feeling restless at times, and sad when he was alone. Of course, the ex-Rafiq would never let anyone know these facts and would stick to holding it in and expressing it only in private. He did end up taking to some of Al Mualim's practices and sent novices on missions that were planned, either ending up in success or failure depending on what pair needed more of a dose of. Majid and Rauf ended up sticking by the master, not wanting to leave him without any support, and helped plan the missions, even posing as fake Templar soldiers for practice missions.<p>

Tazim was now fourteen years old, and quite a teenager. He went through his rebelling period much earlier than others, and left home for a bout a year when he turned thirteen, but came home a year later looking entirely too thin, and a new attitude for his home and father figures. Upon his return home he was reunited with his partner Amro, who was all too happy to have his old partner back. He wouldn't speak to anyone, aside from Malik, about where he had gone and what he had seen. All Malik would tell anyone is "The boy now has a respect for the way we live, and sees why it is important that we help the people as much as we can."

Darim and Sef were both eight years old now, and both full of personalities that reminded everyone of Altair in some way or another. Darim was childish, and constantly trying to pull small pranks on everyone and anyone who seemed in good humor. Sef, on the other hand, was serious, and had a knack for keeping his twin in check. But despite their polar opposite personalities, both were growing up to be very good at anything that pertained to sword fighting, and hiding. Darim was especially quick, and could out-run nearly anyone. Sef, although slower than his brother, had better precision and could hit a target with a dagger or a throwing knife in the same spot as many times as you'd ask him to.

Malik was proud of the three boys, more so than he could ever put into words. He only wished that he could tell Altair how much his boys have grown, or show Kadar how great his son was becoming. As he stood, looking down at the land from the tower him, his brother, Altair, Majid, and Tamir use to go to, he felt a strange sense of relief. Even though Kadar and Tamir were dead, and even though Altair was far away, he still felt as if all three were standing next to him, staring out with him.

Something caught his eye as he stared out at the mountains. A traveler that looked far too young to be traveling on his own staggered over the top of the trail down the mountain, and was heading towards Masyaf. Curiosity getting the better of him, he took to the stairs and headed down to the castle gates, standing and squinting out into the city for the boy. He ignored Rauf's curious gaze from his post at the gate, and as soon as the boy was spotted rushed forward into town in an attempt to figure out who it was.

He wasn't sure as to why this particular boy caught his attention, and he certainly wasn't sure as to why he cared so much to who he was. Perhaps the long period of time away from any real threats of the Templars caused him to be paranoid. All he knew was that he needed to know, and wanted to know why the boy was here. He stopped at the edge of the hill and waited, frowning as he saw assassin robes on the boy as he drew closer. He did not send out any novices on any missions for the last two days. Who was this?

The boy stopped in front of him, seemingly catching his breath from the long hike from wherever he came from. He lifted his head, then slowly pulled down his hood, revealing a strangely familiar face. He resembled Abbas in his bone structure, but nothing more. He did not speak, only stared down at the boy, who lowered his eyes under the powerful gaze of the older man.

"Master Malik... I..." his voice trailed off.

"Your face looks familiar, yet I cannot place your name," he admitted, his brows furrowed as he stared at him.

"I expected as much, sir. My name is Bahij Sofian, the son of Abbas Sofian, sir." This made Malik's gaze grow even more harsh as he glared. Why was he here? Was he daft like his father, and forgot that he had run away? As if reading his mind, the boy shifted slightly and looked up at him, "I had run away to be with my father, but that was a mistake. I'm afraid I do not agree with my father, or any of his ideals, sir. He speaks ill of you, sir. Says you do not see the truth, and preaches that you are a poor master."

"And you do not agree?" The older man found this hard to believe. He glanced behind him as Rauf joined his side, looking over the boy hesitantly, his eyes on the verge of glaring, but also taking caution and not allowing his emotions to show from behind his mask.

"I do not, sir. I think that Master Altair put you in charge for a reason. He trusts you sir. As do I. I apologize for leaving, but I was younger then, and foolish. Please forgive me." The boy dropped to his knees, lowering his head almost pathetically. Rauf and Malik made eye contact, both not really knowing how to react to what he had said.

"If we question you about your father... will you not resist? Will you lie to us, and feed us poisonous words only to earn our trust?"

His head shot back up, his eyes hard, "I will not lie, sir. Question me if you must, my father hid much from me, but I will answer all that I can. I swear to it."

Malik thought for a moment, then finally nodded, gesturing for him to follow. He headed up the hill and to the castle. As he entered through the gates, he made eye contact with Majid and Tazim, who were leaning against the sparring fence, looking at him confused. Tazim was equally as curious as Majid, but was told to stay put as Majid followed them up to the master's study.

Malik walked behind his desk, and watched as Rauf and Majid stood on both of Bahij's sides. Everyone was silent, which was made the teenager uneasy as he looked at the two next to him. It was a few minutes before Malik leaned forward, pressing his hand to the top of the desk, "Where where you?"

"Aleppo." Just as they had assumed. How Abbas and the others managed to escape their gaze baffled him.

"What is it that they are planning to do by breaking away?"

"My father spoke of trying to rally some of the brothers against you. He was not successful, but still is looking for a way to overthrow you."

"So he does not have a plan?"

"No sir. Or if he does he did not tell me."

It was Majid's turn to speak, "So you are back with us, correct? For good?"

"I do not wish to return with my father, no. I'd rather fight for a just cause than one that makes no sense."

"How many does he have rallied?"

"Fourteen sir. He managed to gather some men in Aleppo, but I do not think they will stick around for long. They look of pitiful dogs that are only there for the food and company. As soon as something goes wrong I do not doubt they will run away."

"Would you, perhaps, be able to show us where they are, or were, hiding out?" Rauf asked, more at a whisper.

"Yes sir. More than willing. But I assume with my running away they will have moved on."

"That's perfectly alright," Malik cut in once more, "There might be clues left behind, one does not know unless searching."

"When you left us, was it on your own accord, or did your father send word for you to come?" Majid asked.

"I had been contemplating leaving for a while. After my mother passed away I felt sad, and wanted to see my father. It was coincidence that I received a letter from my father telling me to journey towards Aleppo and stay at the closest check point, where he would collect me."

The three assassins did not see the need to ask anything more. They weren't going to get anything valuable other than their location out of it, and since they had no plan, and hardly any support on their cause they saw no real need to seek them out other than a quick check. The master waved his hand, Rauf leading the boy out to set him up with a room once again. Majid stood still a moment, before he pulled out a scroll and handed it over to the other, who looked at it, confused then took it. Normally it was Rauf handing him the letters, not Majid.

As he opened it, the man stood his ground, not even to give him some privacy. It was apparent that he had read it, so it must have been delivered not strictly for only him. He recognized the handwriting (which seemed to be getting a bit better compared to years ago) and frowned at it's start.

_It's been a year since I entered eastern Europe, and I can already say I am tired of it. Templars are on every cross road, guarding and waiting for any strike that might happen. They are too cautious and it brings pain to my heart to know that our brothers in this land are suffering because of the evil that follows these men. _

_I am going to stay here a while longer to ensure that our brothers know how to properly fight against our threat. Please, I am begging you to send a few of the masters out to me, so that I might use them for knowledge. These are dangerous times. It seems that there are more Pieces of Eden out there then just the Apple. Rumor has it that the Templars have discovered a location of a staff that may be one of them. If this staff is as powerful as the Apple... I cannot think of what could happen if they get their hands on it._

_Again, I am requesting at the least five brothers to assist me. I apologize for the lack of information pertaining to what is going on, but things are rushed and I am pressed for time. I hope all is well._

_Altair_

He reread it twice before he slowly met the gaze of his uncle. More pieces of Eden? He set aside the scroll and flopped back against the chair, rubbing his forehead. And what of his stay? Did that mean he was going to take another five years? Ten? More? And he also requested a few masters to help him. Who would he send? He couldn't afford to send either Rauf or Majid, no he needed them. But who else?

He thought for a moment, before looking up at his uncle, "Bring me Famir and Sadiq from the men that came from Jerusalem," he stated, standing and looking to Majid, who nodded his head. "Also Fahkir, Hani, and Kahil."

"Are you sure about Kahil?" the older man asked, raising a brow, "Last I saw he was better as a teacher than a man in missions now a days..."

"Altair needs teachers, he is one of our finest. You can take his place here, and Rauf your spot."

"Yes, I shall retrieve them right away."

Majid then left Malik alone to his thoughts. Five years without a single note and now this. He expected a "I'm coming home" note before this... But then again, it was for the good of the brotherhood. Altair had changed in so many ways since the day Kadar and Tamir died, his progress with the assassin's and his love for the Creed being two of the biggest changes. He looked up as Famir and Fahkir entered the study, both looking curious, but not saying anything as they awaited Malik's instruction. Kahil and Hani soon followed, then Sadiq, who's hair was wet indicating that he had been pulled from washing.

Malik did not say anything at first, before he walked around the desk, standing in front of them, trying to think of how to word it. Hani had a son, Amro, Fahkir had a baby on the way. Would they be alright with going out to Eastern Europe? Sadiq always was up for an adventure, and Kahil and Famir did not have anyone special that they were tied to here so he did not think that those three would protest.

"First off... I have chosen you five because I believe you to be the best our brothers have to offer. Second, if for any reason you have an objection to going on this mission, state so and I will assign someone else to your job." The men looked to each other, not sure of what to make of what was said. Was what he was sending them into really that bad?

"Master Altair has sent word of our brothers in Eastern Europe that need our help in fighting off the Templar threat. He needs the help of you five to teach them our ways and how to fight back. Again, if you have any objection to leaving on this journey you must speak now. This will not be a simple week long trip. It could take months, and possibly years," he nearly choked on the word knowing that that could possibly mean Altair would be years as well.

"I will go," Sadiq said immediately, causing Malik to smile knowingly.

"I will, as well," Famir stated.

Hani and Fakhir looked hesitant as Kahil also chimed in that he would go. It was the two that Malik expected would be against the journey. After a moment of silence, Fakhir nodded his head, murmuring that he would go, leaving only Hani to be the last to decide. If a man who had not even seen the face of his child agreed to go, surely he could as well? Finally, he nodded his head and let out a sigh, "I will go," he stated, Malik smiling at them kindly.

"Thank you brothers. Stay together, work together, and make sure that you succeed."

The five took the rest of the day to prepare their journey, then the rest of the night to say goodbye to their loved ones. Malik knew how hard it was to say goodbye to those you love, and knew all too well the pain of a long term distance. He only prayed that it wouldn't be much longer. He was losing faith that he'd ever see his lover again, ever feel the warmth of his embrace, or see the smile that was hidden beneath his hood...

His heart ached the next morning as he said goodbye to his friends, and watched them as they climbed the mountain and out of sight. Their families stood at his side, not even bothering to look at him. He knew they blamed him, but it couldn't be helped. He gave them the chance to say no, there was nothing he could do from there on. And even if he did not ask these men to go, there would be others standing here in their stead.

"He will be home sooner now that he has help," he heard Majid say, looking to his uncle as he placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, all of them will be," Malik stated, smiling as best as he could.

"You still do miss him, right?"

"Of course I miss him..." he looked back, Tazim peering up at him, curiously, Sef and Darim standing behind him, the thought of their father being so close to coming home with these men leaving brought a new life to their eyes.

Tazim walked over to Amro, who smiled at his partner. The boys then left, heading back to the castle, no doubt heading to the tower, where they had been going for a while. Malik suspected some sort of deeper bond between the two, but never decided to ask, in case he was wrong and offended his nephew. He knew that at this point, Tazim was probably just being kind to his partner. He looked down at the twins, who were now standing at his side, looking out the gates in awe of the landscape. Yes, they had been out of the gates before, but never on their own, or out there for a certain significant reason.

"And who would you like to go out to Aleppo?" Rauf asked, speaking for the first time all day. Malik got the uneasy feeling that his friend was disappointed in him, but did not ask about it, hoping that it was just the paranoia talking.

"Majid," he looked to his uncle, who blinked. He had not been on a mission in many years, but Malik knew the man well, and knew that he wanted to do something. "I would like you to take Bahij and go to Aleppo. Do a complete search of the area and if you do find Abbas capture him and bring him here for questioning."

"Yes, sir," Majid nodded his head and headed to the armory to ready his mission.

"Do you suppose I could go with him?" Rauf asked. Rauf had not been on a mission in many years due to the fact that he was a Masyaf guard. Malik thought for a moment, but nodded his head in the end. It would be cruel to deny his friend of this request, especially after all he had done to help out. He bowed, then headed in the direction Majid went to tell him of them being partners for the mission.

"Come on boys," Malik smiled at the twins, who looked back up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Let's get some breakfast, shall we?"

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>Originally this chapter was even longer than this, but due to the long length I had to split it up and put the rest in the next chapter.<p>

I feel bad for Malik. Even though I am the one writing this, I feel I am being unfair to him by keeping Altair away for so long. But then again if I didn't it would not work with the plot at all x.x Bah the conflict...

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>ChaosShadowWalkerWolf<span>_: D:! I'm so sorry for all the sad feelers. There will be happy feels soon, I promise ;~;!

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><p>Thank you guys again and again for all the support!<p> 


	32. Chapter 32

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 32

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><p>After a week, Majid, Rauf and Bahij came home from Aleppo. There was nothing there but a few signs of trash that a group had been there, but nothing stating that it was Abbas or any of the other deserters. Bahij seemed very distressed by this, stating over and over that he was sorry, but had to be reminded by both Rauf and Majid on several occasions that they knew that they would probably not be there, and that it was not his fault.<p>

But even with the boy showing the two assassins Aleppo and the hideout, the other brothers in the creed were weary and did not trust Bahij. Of course, Malik did not either, he was a son of Abbas after all, but reluctantly agreed to allow him to stay. Out of paranoia, he ended up telling Tazim to keep an eye on him. What more could he do?

Three years quietly passed with nothing but a whisper of where Altair was. Malik received a letter from Fakhir, who wrote of the new scars Altair had, and how quiet he was. It was hard for the leader to read the words, knowing fully well that he was not the only one who was suffering from the distance. Altair was away from home, Malik at least slept in his own bed at night and could feel safe as he slept.

He listened to the sound of footsteps heading up to the study, keeping his eyes downcast and trained on the letter as if it was going to somehow help them all, and bring everything to where they belong. There was a pause before he glanced upward, doing a double-take as he stared up into the eyes of Abbas, who carried a serious expression on his face. Where had he come from? He looked to both staircases, one Majid stood at, his arms crossed looking angry at the deserter, and the other stood Swami, who also had another assassin guard behind him.

"Greetings, Malik."

"And what brings you back, Abbas? Come to try and strike me down for doing what is right?"

Abbas cringed at his words, unable to look him in the eye as he focused on a stone under the table, "I have come home because it is where I belong. Yes, it was wrong for me to leave like I did, but I did it under knowledge that I would one day return with information you would want."

"What are you talking about?" Malik narrowed his eyes, challenging the man to continue to speak.

"I come with news of Maria Thorpe, the mother of Altair's children-"

"She's dead, what sort of news could you possibly have about her?"

"Yes, she is dead. However, what you do not know is that she only died just last week. My pupil," he gestured back at Swami who stepped forward and bowed his head, "Had slain her. You see, Master, Maria was in fact a Templar-"

"Speak news that we do not know already or just roll over and accept that you left us because of your own greed."

"Maria Thorpe was a Templar even while here!" Swami lashed out, stepping to his master's side his eyes narrowed, "She may have had feelings for Master Altair, but when he left so did her only reason to stay with us. She used her stay here as killing two targets with one swipe of the sword, she stayed with Altair, and was able to spy on us. She took her knowledge back to her people and was conspiring to have us all slaughtered!"

Although Swami was as eloquent as a goat, his words came across as clear as a bell. Malik stared at him, then looked over to Abbas, receiving a nod in reply to his questioning gaze. Was this true? If so, why did it take this long, this many years to have it all told?

"We wanted to tell you the truth, but you were taking care of the children and the rest of the creed. I'd have rather you thought of us as traitors for a time being than put this knowledge on you. Would you have looked at Darim and Sef the same knowing that their mother was such a snake?"

"You should have come to me," Malik snapped, slamming his fist to the table, "No, I would not have treated them differently. You cannot punish a child for the crimes of the parent, it is not fair to them. If we lived with that mindset, do you honestly think your son would still be alive?" He watched the man cringe and look back down in shame at the truth he spoke. The Master paced behind the table a moment, before sighing and shaking his head, "How did you find out about all this?" he whispered, looking up.

"I followed her out of Masyaf one day, in hopes that she would be able to tell me Altair's whereabouts. I found her at one of the nearer checkpoints talking with a Templar captain. When I listened in I found out all I knew. Once I confronted her about it she left the city. I had to follow her. I took the men I needed then left without a word in hopes that I was wrong. But I wasn't Malik. I found out even more about what she was planning with the Templars. We needed to stop them, and we did. Did you not wonder why nothing was happening for all these years?"

Malik bit his lip. Of course he wondered. Was Abbas really the reason? He scowled and looked away, unable to form a single word. He wanted to tell them good work, that they were welcomed back, but something inside him was screaming at him that it was all a lie, that Abbas was just lying to get his way back into the Creed.

He glanced over at his Uncle, who's tensed jaw told him his opinion on the matter. He did not believe them either. He looked to the other guard, who was looking at the men in awe. What could he say? He waved his hand away, "Well done, if the story is true," he stated, Abbas smiling for the first time since entering the study, "You may leave, get something to eat and drink."

Everything was silent once the man and his minion left the room. Majid stayed put, his eyes focused on Malik for any reaction. When the master did not react, he let out a sigh and stepped forward, leaning against the desk, "What are you thinking, Malik?"

"My mind is blank, to be perfectly honest," Malik stated, peering up at his uncle, "I do not know what to do, or how to react. Altair is away, miserable, and I can not do anything about it. I'm sitting here doing nothing of importance and that pig headed little..." he clenched his fist then let out an aggrivated groan as he flopped back in his chair, "Of all people, Abbas? The man has always been a fool. Why is it he who found out the truth of Maria?"

"I do not think he is speaking the truth."

"I feel the same." The two made eye contact, the older man smirking lightly, "Have I ever told you how much you look like Faheem when you have that look on your face?"

"Once or twice," Malik slouched in his seat so his head rested on the back of the seat. He stared at the ceiling before closing his eyes and raising his arm to cover them.

"What are we going to do?"

"There's nothing we can do. We have to take his word, and move on. It angers me, but what more can we do? We cannot call him a liar, no one really knew Maria except Altair, and even so, did he really?"

Malik stood up, and picked up his letter from Fakhir, glancing over it once more, "I'm giving him one more year to come back, Majid. If he does not, I am going after him promise or not."

"He will be very cross when he sees you," Majid scolded, playfully.

"Too bad. I've been cross with him since he left, he can just live with it."

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><p>A week had passed since Abbas' return. Rumors were flying, especially among the novice's who made a point to outcast both Darim and Sef. The twins were hurt by the rumors, but even more so that their friends would choose to think they were going to betray them after all the years of knowing them. They sat during meals in a corner, by themselves, trying to ignore the angry glares and the glances from the rest of the brotherhood.<p>

Tazim watched them from his spot next to Amro, and sighed, standing up and rubbing the back of his head, "I'm going to eat with them," he told him, looking down at the smaller boy, who nodded and stood next to him.

"I feel bad for them," he stated, the taller boy nodding his head and starting over to the two.

They looked up at them, expecting angered words, but instead received a smile as Tazim sat with them, Amro sitting next to them. The eleven year old's did not deserve what they were being put through and both teens knew that. "Did you learn anything new in class today?" Tazim asked, giving them a friendly smile to show he meant no harm.

"We learned about the hidden blade, it's uses and how vital it is," Sef stated, Amro perking up.

"Would you like to see one?" he asked, both both blinking and nodding their heads. The older boy smiled, and rolled up his sleeve showing his missing finger and the gauntlet. He rolled his arm over and showed the sheath, "Then you just do this," he moved his hand and the blade popped out, "And there you have it. It's really simple."

"Is it worth losing a finger over?" Darim asked, looking between the two older boys.

"Yes," Tazim said, running his fingers over the stump of the missing digit, "When I got mine last year I was thinking it wasn't, but that was just the shock of missing something you had before. Once you get use to it, you realize how great a trade it really was."

The four glanced upward as Majid walked over to them, his eyes clouded with confusion. Tazim frowned at his great-uncle and stood, almost meeting eye to eye with him. The master assassin sighed and tilted his head to the side, "I need you four to come with him, there is something I need to discuss with you."

The four boys looked at each other, concerned, then followed the man out of the castle grounds. They made their way out of the city, and to a grove outside of it and stopped, standing in the silence. "There's a rumor going around, something much more than your mother," he stated, looking to the twins, who stared up at him almost in fear, "It seems our welcoming Abbas back into our folds has come to a price, and we aren't sure what is going to happen next. He is spreading lies about Master Malik, and I fear that if it continues something bad will happen. With that being said, I don't want a word of this being said to Malik. I just want you boys to be on your toes, and ready for anything to happen."

"What do you mean by anything?" Amro asked, his brows furrowed.

"I mean anything. Rauf and I have been hearing whispers from Acre countering all information that Abbas had delivered to us about Maria Thorpe and has proven all his words to be lies. We can't, however prove that those words are true, and we are being forced to keep it a secret and hope that things do not go bad."

"Is there a way to prove our mother's innocence?" Darim asked, stepping forward. "We will go to Acre, we will find out-"

"I'm not about to send two eleven year old's on a mission," Majid stated, raising his hand slightly.

"What about two seventeen year old's?" Tazim asked, crossing his arms, "Amro and I are more than capable of spying and eavesdropping."

"I'm not sending anyone, not yet. For now we need all the hands we have to keep an eye on Abbas. I am telling you four out here, in secret not because it's a nice evening, but because there are few we can trust now. We can trust each other, Rauf, and Malik. Most others are straying and believing every single lie that protrudes from that slime's mouth.

"So please boys, keep an eye out. Don't trust anything, anyone without discussing it with each other, and..." he trailed off, troubled. He looked back at them looking into each of their eyes one by one before he continued, "And please stay alive."

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><p>The boys headed back to the castle with little talk. They parted with Majid at the gates, who stopped to talk with Rauf, and headed to the dorm tower. They stopped on the fourth floor, the boys looking at each other in fear of what was to come. The two teens smiled at the younger boys, and sent them off to bed, all of them ready to sleep and put the day behind them.<p>

Sef and Darim laid in their beds, both of them wide awake as they stared at the ceiling, wondering why all of this was happening all at once. Why was Abbas doing this? Why was he telling lies of their mother, now turning to spread lies of the one who raised them? They trusted Malik, and they grew up with the knowledge that others did as well, but now...? How can people change their opinions of someone just because of a rumor? They did not understand.

It was close to midnight when their door opened slowly, and soundlessly. Sef knew there was someone in their room, but did not look, keeping his eyes shut in hopes of the shadow going away. He could hear the soft padding of their shoes, and the soft breathing from his brother indicating that he was asleep. He felt something cold touch his neck, making him open his eyes and look up. He made to scream, but was silenced as the blade he felt cut into his throat making it so he was unable to scream out. He watched as the figure laid the sword down on the bed, leaned forward and whispered in his ear: "Your father had sentenced you to death. Seems he is not pleased with you at all." He stared up at the figure, not knowing who the person was, only watched as they smiled and turned leaving the room. Everything was growing dark as he felt his life slipping away. The last thing he saw before his life ended was his brother.

Darim woke to the sound of a squelching noise. His eyes widened as he screamed out his brother's name and rushed forward, trying to find anything to stop the bleeding. "Sef! Don't leave me! Sef!" he called out, but knew he was too late as his brother fell limp in his arms. He sobbed out, ignoring the sound of guards entering his room as he clung to his brother, screaming at him to wake up.

He felt arms around him, and was yanked up and rushed out of the room by someone, while he kicked and screamed to be let go. "Help me," he heard Rauf harshly whisper as he pulled him down the stairs. Darim looked up, his eyes nearly clouded with tears as he saw Tazim and Amro behind him, looking frantically around as they headed down.

Majid was not far behind them as he raced down the stairs, exiting with them, "Amro, stay with me. Tazim, take Darim and leave with Rauf. We need to get you both as far away as possible."

"What is going on?" Tazim asked, holding the sobbing boy, who clung to him, muttering inaudible things under his breath.

"They are claiming Malik murdered Sef... They found his blade on the boy's bed... If they catch you, they will surely imprison you as well."

"What about you?!" Amro asked, shaking his head, "You have to go too! You are his-"

"I have to stay with Malik," he stated, shaking his head then pushing Tazim and Rauf towards the gates, "Go!" He turned to Amro, and shook his head, "You have to head back inside, act like you know nothing of Tazim's disappearance. They will spare you."

"Sir, but... They will capture you..." he looked down.

"They will, yes. But there is nothing more we can do, go," he pointed to the door, the boy nodding and following his orders. He waited, and was not surprised when two brothers came and tied him up, dragging him to the dungeons below and putting him in a cell. He did not make to struggle, and just kept his ears open as he listened to murmurs down the hall.

Malik was dragged down the hall, past Majid's cell and into his own further down. He was thrown roughly to the stone floor, and scowled as he felt the side of his head scrape. He rolled over to sit down, and stared up at Abbas, who simply grinned down at him, "How does it feel to be on the other end, Malik?" he asked, letting out a wicked chuckle as he crossed his arms.

"How does it feel to murder an innocent, Abbas? Do you think you will be forgiven when the brothers learn of what a liar and scum you really are?"

Abbas spit down at Malik and shook his head, "You should learn to hold your tongue. You never know what will happen if you do not..."

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>It was hard to write this chapter. Mostly because of Sef =

Despite how sad it was, I hope you still liked it. The next chapter should come out within a few days since I wrote most of it already.

Thank you all for all the positive feed back that I've gotten from Deviantart and Fanfiction, Thank you so much guys!

Please keep reviewing and talking to me, it really helps me out by telling me what I'm doing right and wrong, thanks!

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Story Puppet<span>_: I am very glad that you like it :) Thank you!

_eliina_: It's perfectly alright, thank you for reviewing last time :) And yes, you are right. Altair isn't being very vocal on what he's going through or what he is doing for that matter. But I can assure you he misses Malik very much.

_uchiha-senna_: Glad to see another DA user that likes the story, I hope you continue to do so :)

_jackkeroauc_: -hands you more – xD Glad you like it :3


	33. Chapter 33

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 33

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><p>Tazim sighed, hugging his arms as he sat in front of the fire that Rauf had left up for him and Darim an hour before sunset. It was a cold night, and he was amazed that the boy was able to sleep without shivering himself awake. The teenager rubbed his hands together, trying to get them warm as a chilling breeze rustled through the trees. He looked to the boy, who shivered for the first time, opening his eyes and rubbing them as he sat up.<p>

He reached out, handing the younger boy their water container that the gate guard had left them, the boy sipping from it and closing it once again, hugging his legs. "You should probably go back to sleep. It will be a few hours till we have to head out."

"I was hoping it was all a dream... Tazim, what if Master Malik did kill my brother?"

"Don't think that, don't ever think that. My uncle is like my father, he raised me... He raised you! You know him. Never think that."

Darim cringed and nodded his head. Tazim was right, Malik would never betray him like that. He curled up and leaned his head against the older man, clinging to his arm as he stared at the fire. "Why my brother? Why not me?" he asked at a whisper, sniffing as his eyes clouded over with tears.

"Hey," Tazim shook his head and turned so he could hug him, "I may not have an answer, but don't ever question why it wasn't you. Sef would not want that. We have to keep living, for him. We have to go to Acre like Rauf told us to."

"What are we suppose to do when we get there?" he grumbled against his chest.

"Lay low... Move around... Least until Rauf contacts us."

The boy nodded and let himself relax as he curled up against him, allowing himself to sleep. The older teen did not sleep at all, keeping alert in case one of the brothers followed them. He stood, waking the boy at dawn, and mounting the horse that they brought along with them.

They took a long route, avoiding any and all people as best as they could, covering their faces whenever they came close to any people along the way. It was quiet, and the boys did not speak much, but they were left with nothing they could not handle because of their conscious approach. They made it to the city a few days after leaving Masyaf, and took to doing what Rauf suggested, moving from alleyway to alleyway, street to street, spying on people and listening in to any and all conversations that came near them.

The two thought often of their family back home, longing to see them one more time. It wasn't fair, both of them had not had long lives, and here they were forced out of their home and forced to be mute to anyone except each other. And what was it all for? Someone's greed? Someone's lust for power?

Tazim wandered the market nearly a month after they arrived. He kept his hand in his pocket as he clutched a few coins, searching for something to eat. There was a lot to choose from, but nothing stood out to him. Nothing that they had not tried and loved to the point of trying it again. He stopped at a fruit stand, feeling the fruits, and paying the man for four apples, putting them in a pouch he carried at his side. He turned, and frowned, noticing the red helmet of a Templar captain coming his way. He had only recognized it because of his uncle's drawings, and ducked to the side, sitting on a bench, leaning forward and making sure to blend in as the man stopped a few feet away from him.

"It's a lovely day," a guard stated, walking up next to the captain, who grunted in his reply. "When are the new recruits coming from Spain?"

"Should be soon," the man under the helmet stated, crossing his arms, "They were scheduled to leave a few weeks ago."

The two paused and looked in the direction of the sea as a bell rang from the docks, "Speak of the devil," the guard muttered, smiling wide and clapping the captain on the shoulder, "That looks to be them! Hurry we must greet our brothers."

The two hurried away, Tazim looking up and following them with his eyes till they were gone. More Templars. This was not good news at all. He stood and rushed through the crowd, being careful so he did not push anyone, and made his way to Darim. They needed to take care more than ever with enemies worse than Acre guards wandering about...

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><p>Malik cringed as he was slapped across the face, causing him to lose balance and fall to the ground. Abbas stepped forward, pressing the sole of his shoe to his cheek, pushing down causing a searing pain in his head. "I ask again, Malik. Where is Altair and the apple?"<p>

"I told you, even if I did know something, I would not tell the likes of you, you traitor!"

He received a kick to the gut, making him gasp for air, winded. A month of torture, a month of questions that he did not know the answers to. A month of hell, not knowing if his brother's and his lover's sons made it out alive. Rauf said that they did, but did not have any other chance to talk to him after he mentioned it.

Majid was not tortured, only locked away in a cell away from Malik's and kept under strict food and water rations. Rauf and Amro were pardoned and not imprisoned after they argued that they knew nothing of what was going on. Rauf falsely pledged himself to Abbas under Malik's orders, and stuck to the gates guarding from the imaginary foes that Abbas feared would attack.

The Ex-Master laid on the floor in nothing but a pair of ripped pants, cuts and bruises all over his body indicating how much Abbas did to him on a daily basis. He barely was fed, and was very dehydrated only allowed a few sips of water a day. It wasn't enough to keep him going mentally, but it was enough to allow him to cling to life on thin threads.

He prayed every day for death, not because he was a coward, or because he could not take the torture he was being put through, but so that Abbas would be given something to do. He'd have to find something else to preoccupy himself in, in turn distracting him from Altair. If Altair came back with him dead, it would make Abbas for an easy and distracted target.

He glanced upward as Rauf entered, laying a plate of stale bread and a half filled cup of water. Abbas was no longer there, making him believe that he had passed out from the pain he was feeling and had just woken up.

"I'm sorry, Master..." the guard whispered, a tear falling from his eye as he brushed hair from the beaten man's face.

"There's nothing you can do, Rauf... How is Majid?"

"Silent as always. He refuses to speak to the other guards, and does not even look when Abbas tries to get his attention." This made Malik smile slightly as he sat up and ate his bread. "We received a letter from Altair..." he whispered, looking around then leaning in, "I managed to burn it before Abbas could read it. But it says he is coming home. I do not know when it was sent, so for all we know-"

"He could be near..." Malik finished the statement, the other man nodding. "If he shows up go to his side. Do not seek to release Majid and I, there will be time for that later. Altair needs to know all the details..." he trailed off, laying back down, unable to keep himself upright, using all his energy in his words, "Help him, my brother..."

"I will, Master. I promise."

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><p>Tazim and Darim had taken to moving around all day. It was not long after the boat docked that the Templar soldiers wandered about, searching the land as they scoured their new home. What did they want? Why were they here? Tazim peered down an alleyway, watching as two headed down it. If only he could hear them and what they were saying. He looked back at Darim, who nodded his head, the two tip toeing after them, trying their best to stay quiet.<p>

Luck was not on their side. One of them glanced behind them, immediately yelling out, and pointing in their direction. "It's an assassin! No, two of them!" he screamed out, another guard jumping down from the roof top above, making Darim yelp.

"Run Darim," Tazim pushed him behind him and allowed a few seconds for the boy to get a head start, before turning as well and going in the opposite direction.

"You two get the shrimp, I'll handle the other," he heard one call out, but did not bother to look back as he rushed through the crowd, pushing and shoving his way through them. He turned down numerous alleyways, down numerous streets, not even knowing where he was going. He ran into a few groups of the soldiers and Templars, creating a mob of people who followed him. He was almost out of breath, but he couldn't give up. He had to get away, and fast.

He turned down another alleyway, and nearly lost his breath as he was pulled down a hole in the ground, a hand covering his mouth as the person pulled a wood board over the opening. A few seconds passed, and he knew he was a goner. Whoever this person was, they could snap his neck at any time. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the clinking armor as he grew more distant, till it was not heard anymore. The man removed his hand, and let out a sigh, taking a step back to allow Tazim some space.

"I apologize for grabbing you like that, brother, but I did not think it wise for you to continue running about aimlessly."

Brother? Tazim gulped. Was he from Masyaf? His eyes shot up to the wood board. Darim was still up there, he needed to find him. "I need to find my partner," he stated, biting his lip, "Thank you for the help."

"I do not suggest going up so soon. If it makes you feel any better I saw a boy hide in a hay pile a little ways away. The guards passed him by, that's when I saw you and followed to make sure you too could hide."

"I kept running into more and more guards every time I found somewhere I could hide..." why was he telling this man this? He did not even know him. "Who are you?"

"Ah yes, I do suppose introductions are needed. I am Altair Ibn-La'ahad." Tazim nearly lost his breath. Altair? The man he could only remember blurs of from when he was young? He fell to his knees, overwhelmed at this knowledge, tears forming in the corner of his eyes, "Are you alright?" the master assassin asked, leaning down and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I need... proof..." Tazim choked, rubbing his eyes and looking up at the dim face outline of the older man. He couldn't tell in the light, and all he had to go by was his uncle's drawings, like the Templar captain. He thought a moment, then bit his lip, "What was Malik Al-Sayf's brother's name?"

"Kadar."

"And... how did he die?"

"A foolish mistake on my part. I was cocky, overconfident... He lost his life because of my foolishness." Tazim looked down, the older man peering down at the assassin awaiting if he had any other questions.

"Where were the Al-Sayf brother's raised? And what was their father's name?"

Altair was hesitant, "How is it that you know the answers to these questions? By the sound of your voice, and the errors in your stealth I do not think you to be old enough to know these things."

"Answer me before I answer you."

Altair scoffed, leaning back against the wall, "They were born and raised in Acre, till Tamir and Majid found them and brought them to Masyaf. There is where they learned their father was an Assassin named Faheem Al-Sayf."

Tazim was silent. This was Altair. A tear fell from his eye as he was tempted to yell at him. Where had he been? His uncle was in a prison... hopefully still alive, and here he is! He stood, and removed his hood, Altair pulling out the apple causing the small room to light up. As he stared up at the face that he only remembered because of the drawings, he felt himself gulp, "My name is Tazim Al-Sayf, sir. I know the answer to these things because Kadar was my father, and Malik is the man who raised me."

Altair nearly dropped the apple. He looked so much like Malik did when he was young. He let out a huff, trying hard not to cry himself as tears fell from his intense eyes. "Why are you here Tazim? Why are you not in Masyaf?"

"I would like to find Darim first before I explain..."

"Darim? My son? That's the boy who I saw earlier?" he seemed to pale in realization, his eyes down-casting to the floor.

"Yes, sir."

Altair nodded, tucking the apple away, the light extinguishing, then engulfing the room as he moved the board, and climbed out. He helped the teenager out, then pulled his hood up before Tazim forgot and headed in the direction of the hay pile.

As soon as Darim saw Tazim, he hopped out of the pile, rushing forward and clinging to him in a hug, "I thought you died," he gasped out, the teenager slowly hugged him back, and looked to Altair, who was tense, staring down at Darim as if he was a ghost.

"We should find the Rafiq and stay with him..." the master said softly, the younger boy just noticing the man, and peering up at him curiously.

"We cannot. If we do, then word will reach Masyaf of where we are and we will be captured."

Altair blinked, "Captured? What do you mean? Surely you do not believe your uncle would capture you. Unless... was there something you did wrong?"

"Not us. Abbas Sofian, sir. I will explain further, but not in the open like this."

Altair agreed, turning and walking the dark streets till the reached the gates, not allowing himself to speak a single word on the way. It was easy to slip out of the city, the gates unguarded, and making it into the stables was even easier. They climbed up onto a few boxes and slipped into the window and sat in the soft hay.

"Tazim, who is this? A friend of Raufs?"

"You...could say that," Tazim started slowly, "Darim... this is your father, Altair Ibn-La'ahad."

The boy's eyes widened, his head shooting to the side as he stared at the master. He removed his hood, revealing the same amber-colored eyes that Sef had, and the same sandy brown hair that he shared with Darim. "Baba?" he asked, looking to Tazim for any confirmation that he was not dreaming.

"Yes, Darim. It is I. I apologize for leaving you for so long... I cannot ask you to forgive me, but..."

"It was your duty. I know. I just... I never thought you'd actually come home. We grew up with the knowledge that you were out there, I just never..." he looked down, and jumped slightly as Altair touched his shoulder. It was a moment before the boy reached out, clinging to his father in a hug, biting his lip hard, tears pouring from his eyes.

They stayed silent as Darim cried, his face pressed against his father's robes as he tried to overcome all the emotions he was feeling. Tazim kept still, feeling awful for the boy, but also wanting to speak out. As they were sitting here, his uncle, his father figure was in a prison cell, and possibly even dead... He closed his eyes and looked down. No, he could not afford to think that way, Rauf would have sent word somehow if he were dead...

"Please, Tazim. What happened while I was away?" Altair asked, looking over to the teenager, who opened his eyes and peered up at the master assassin, keeping silent for a moment, before starting to speak.

"First, Darim's mother was accused of rejoining with the Templars. Everyone believed it to be true except for my father, Uncle Majid and Uncle Rauf, but without proof they could not present it as anything more than a hope. It wasn't until Abbas came back to Masyaf after disappearing that Majid and Rauf had found out Abbas's true nature. But... It was too late..." Tazim paused and looked to Darim, who nodded his head and looked away, knowing what the next part of the story was.

"Abbas murdered Sef, sir. Put the blame on my father. Since his blade, the one you gave him years ago, was found with the body no one doubted it and he was put in the dungeons below the city. Majid was arrested as well, but before Darim or myself could be captured Rauf smuggled us out. We made it to a checkpoint where he told us that we were to come here, and wait out for him. He spoke before he left us to go back to the castle, that Abbas is awaiting your return, and with the support of the brotherhood behind him he could convince everyone that you too were evil and could steal the apple away from you and use it for his own personal gain. We came to this city told to wait here for Rauf, but instead... we find you."

"Baba- I mean... Master Altair, we need to help Malik, sir," Darim finally spoke.

Altair was silent for a moment and nodded his head, "This would never have happened if I stayed... My mission took far too long and-"

"You did what you needed. I know this, Darim knows this, and my father knows this. The brotherhood will remember when they see you..."

"I cannot do this alone," Altair stated, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "But, I do have the help of two young assassins, right?" he grinned.

"Yes sir, I am behind you no matter what it takes. My father trusts you, and so will I."

"I am behind you too, Altair Baba," Darim nodded his head, smiling for the first time in more than a year.

"Tomorrow we will ride to Masyaf, and we will break Malik and Majid out of the dungeons. After that we will rally as much of assassin brothers we can and find a way to put a stop to whatever Abbas hopes to accomplish."

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>Hnnng this chapter. Alty's back :3~ Huzzah!<p>

I seriously spent way too long on this chapter. It was done in a manner of just a few hours, but while I read through it I kept changing so much OTL.

Hope you guys like it! But how will I know unless you review? I promise I won't bite!

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>ChaosShadowWalkerWolf<span>_: He will pay, I promise! And I am sorry for more teary-eyed moments, but Altair's back now, so something to look forward to? :D

_Ookamikuro_: I can't say much about why it took next to no time at all for Abbas to overthrow Malik because if I did it would spoil a few things. Minor things, but still would in general =[. I am glad you liked the chapter though, and I hope Altair's return has pleased you :)

_Future Dictator Inc_: I won't spoil anything, but yeah I do know what you are referring to. I can state that it will not happen. It may or may not come close, but it will not happen in the end. I am also happy to hear about the grammar. I am my own editor, so it makes me happy :)

_eliina_: LOL! In all good time, Abbas will get his just deserved punishment, I promise!


	34. Chapter 34

**The Story of a Rafiq**

**Chapter 34**

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><p>Malik felt like he could not breathe. He staggered as he was pulled up, not being able to see. He could feel a fabric tied around his head, and a blade's tip pressed to his back. He stepped forward, only to be pushed to the ground, a few chuckles could be heard from behind as someone's arms wrapped around his good one and pulled him up.<p>

"You're transferring cells," he heard Abbas's voice in his ear.

"And I need to be blind folded for it?" he weakly snapped, turning his head in the direction of Abbas.

"No," he stated slowly, "It's what will come after that you will be needing a blindfold."

Malik wasn't sure what was meant by this statement, but struggled as he walked down the hallway and into a new room, where he was thrown to the ground face first. A foot stepped on his hand, making him growl out in pain, his head shooting back so he could lash out, only ending up in a headlock. He gasped for air, the person holding his airway closed till he could feel himself slipping from consciousness.

He was dunked in a bowl of water, bringing him back, his lungs gasping out for air while his body screamed at him to take the opportunity to take a gulp of water. Unable to do so he was thrown back against a wall, his head colliding with stone as he felt someone sit on his stomach.

"I'm going to ask you again, Malik..." Abbas's voice rang out in the room, "Where is Altair?" Malik did not answer, earning a slap across the face. "Where is Altair or I will kill Tazim."

"You do not have him, do not make false threats," Malik lashed out, bucking his body in an attempt to get the man off of him.

"But I do. We caught him and Darim sneaking back into the castle to save you and your uncle... It's a shame though, poor Darim was put to death because of insanity... But Tazim..." he trailed off, the smile very apparent on his lips, even though the man could not see it, "We can still keep him alive if you comply. Where is Altair currently, Malik? I will not ask again."

He was silent. If he did have him, the boy was history, but if he didn't he'd be leaking out information of where he was, in turn could lead him to finding out he was actually nearby. The reality of the situation was all too haunting. His head hung low, a single tear falling from his eye that slipped past the fabric and down his face before he finally spoke. "He went to Constantinople," he lied, his voice hitching in his throat to give the lie more substance. "But that was the last I heard from him... Now please, leave Tazim be..."

"You're a fool. It was a wonder why you were left in charge. I do not have the boy, but thank you for the information," he sat up, kicking him in the side, making him wince and clutch his ribs in pain. He heard the footsteps leave, slowly reaching up to take the blindfold off, and crawled over to the still half-full bowl of water, using his hand to scoop some out and drink. It wasn't the best, but it was something to keep him going at least...

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><p>Altair peeked out of the stables window, frowning at the sight of how many Templar soldiers there were walking about. Were there really this many on the boat with him? He heard a knock, just as he had closed the window and waited. Two more soft knocks followed by a third one after a pause made him smile, rushing past the two awakening boys and open the door slightly. Fakhir and Sadiq entered, followed closely behind by Hani, who closed the door. Tamir stood, suddenly at the sight of the familiar faces.<p>

"Where is Famir?" Altair asked, Hani looking down in shame almost immediately.

"Master, Famir is dead. We were foolish.. We did not notice him slip away until it was too late. We found him beheaded at the Templar fort." Fakhir lowered his head, awaiting a punishing word, but received none as the master only nodded his head and crossed his arms.

"We seem to have a problem when we reach Masyaf," he started slowly, the three assassin's peering at him from under their hoods, eyes shifting with worry. It was then that Fakhir had noticed the two boys, a slight grin appeared on his lips as he lightly nudged Hani, who looked up and smiled wide at the sight of his son's partner. Altair noticed this and blinked, looking back at Tazim, then to Hani, "It seems you know each other?"

"Yes, sir. Tazim is my son, Amro's partner," Hani answered, the other nodding his head, knowing all to well the bonds of being a partner with another assassin. "I'm sorry, Master. You were saying?"

"It seems Abbas has taken over control in Masyaf. He has framed Malik for a crime he had not committed, and locked him away. Tazim and Darim managed to escape and were in hiding here. I found them last night and learned of the situation. We may not have any allies when we make it to Masyaf, but we must gather as many as we can, so that we may bring Abbas to justice."

"I'd like to see his head on a-" Sadiq started, only being nudged by Fakhir, who gestured to the youngest boy in the room. "Ah, well, yes. I am up for the challenge, Master Altair. We will make those who oppose reason pay dearly."

"We will leave in an hour, gather any supplies you may need," Altair stated, looking back at the horses in the stables, "I will gather five horses and be ready to make haste to Masyaf."

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><p>"Master Altair," Tazim walked over to the older assassin, the others sleeping by a campfire. It had been two days since they departed Acre, and the young man was more restless than tired. He sat down next to him, the man peering at him curiously, his hood down for the first time since they met. "Why did you have to go for so long? My father missed you, a lot, and it hurt to see him in so much pain... He never wanted me to see that side of him, but I'd always catch him with a distant, longing look..."<p>

Altair shook his head, "I never wanted to leave him, but I had to. If I left Masyaf under the control of a lesser man, I'd have never discovered the talents of the five men that Malik had sent to me, and Masyaf would have fallen captive to the Templar rulers in time. I did not know how long I was going to be gone, but before I knew it, all these years had passed and I found myself more as an old man than that of a younger one."

"You are not old, Master," Tazim scolded, shaking his head.

"I feel old, Tazim. It's not something that you will have to feel for a long time. All this chaos, all the missions and people I've had to kill, it's not something I wanted to do, but was necessary for our cause. How old are you now?"

"Seventeen, sir."

"And already you've dealt with so much loss and so much that you should not have."

"But it's something I've chosen for myself. I could have left if I felt it was wrong," Tazim countered, shaking his head.

"I am proud to hear you say this. You will be a great man, Tazim. I can count on that." There was a short silence that followed, the younger assassin shifting slightly as he bit his lip. "You have another question?" the master asked, the boy nodding very slowly.

"Does the apple really do what everyone says it does? I know you have it, you used it as a light when we first met, but... It bothers me that something could control other people, and their minds..." he trailed off, looking down.

"It does. And it bothers me as well, but I am going to do my best to ensure it does not get in the hands of someone who will take advantage of it as Al Mualim had." The teen nodded, and yawned, making the master assassin smile and slouch against a log, "Sleep Tazim, we still have a ways yet to get to Masyaf castle."

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><p>The city was silent, hardly anyone in the streets at all. It bothered the assassins, as they made their way up to the castle. Occasionally they'd see a beggar, or someone looking out their door to see the men, but when they saw assassin robes they quickly shut it and hid away inside their houses. Where had all the life and joy gone? When Tazim and Darim had left the people still had pride and could walk outside without being fearful, but now...<p>

They slid into a shadow of a large building, peering up at the castle slopes and at the guards. How would they go about making it up to the castle where the brothers were? Before they could come up with a plan, Tazim had become fed up with waiting. Malik was inside the castle, and probably worse for wear, he was not about to let more time slip by.

Without the others noticing he made his way to a cliff, which he scaled with next to no problems (other than one slip as a rock came loose under the weight of his foot) and walked to the gates with ease. He saw an assassin next to a guard, listening from behind a post, as they conversed.

"And you have not gotten a word from Majid?" it was Abbas. The thought made the teenagers blood boil in hatred as he stood, listening.

"No sir, he won't say much of anything other than murmurs of 'Traitors' and other useless words," the second man, the guard, was Rauf. Tazim was relieved that he had not been caught, and was continuing to pose as a loyal guard to the man he spoke to.

"Of course. He is simply trying to get into our heads, but his tactic will not work, we are not as daft as to fall for it."

"Yes, sir. Has Malik said anything?"

"Finally. I had to tell him that we had Tazim, and that we'd kill him if he did not talk."

"Excellent news."

"I will be off now, thank you for your loyal service, Rauf."

Rauf nodded and watched as the man stepped forward with a group of assassins and headed down the slopes to the city. Malik talked? A lie no doubt, a lie that the man was going to follow no matter how false it was. His father would never talk, no matter the cause or reason. Tazim waited a moment, then another, and finally made his move when he knew that no one but Rauf was around. He stepped forward, his hood dawned on his head so that the man couldn't see who he was. He peered at him, and bit his lip, "Altair is in town right now, brother," he said softly, the man freezing as his eyes widened.

"Truly? Tazim, is that you?"

"Yes, it is I."

"And Darim, where is he?"

"With his father and the others who returned home with Master Altair."

Rauf nodded his head, "Good, I shall stay here at my post so to keep up appearances. Tell Altair that when he is ready I will join him and he will be allowed to come into the castle gates with no problem. Abbas has just left in search of a lead that Malik had given him of Altair's whereabouts," he stated, confirming Tazim's thoughts.

"I will, and if you can, tell Amro we have returned, his father as well. If there are any others that are with us, please rally them and make known that we will strike today."

The teen left without another word, scaling down the wall and returning to the hiding spot where he knew he was to be scolded. When he returned, Darim rushed forward, clinging to his front. Altair opened his mouth, but the teenager beat him to the punch, speaking first so he would avoid being lectured, "Rauf will allow us in the gates and join with us when we approach. I told him to rally any supporters we may still have."

"Well done, but next time do not wander off, speak of where you go first."

"Forgive me, but we were getting no where, so I left first. Rauf had also told me that Master Malik spoke to Abbas of your whereabouts sir, and the man has just left in search for the lead. I believe that my father has told him a lie, and he's following a false lead."

"I believe that as well," Altair stated, "And yes, we saw a group of assassin's just depart. If I had known Abbas was among them..." he trailed off, his brows furrowed.

"What should our next move be, master?" Fakhir asked, interrupting his thoughts, and grinning at the realization that they might be going into a battle soon.

"We rally the citizens," Altair stated, simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "They are not happy, look at them, they hide in their houses when in the past they took joy in coming outside, and took an interest in greeting assassins when they returned home. Abbas has done something worse than simply overtake the brotherhood, he has broken the lives of the people we strive to protect. What is the work of an assassin?" he asked, looking to Tazim, who smiled.

"We work hard to strive for peace."

"Exactly. This isn't peace, this a tyrant who needs to be stopped. This man, Abbas, whom we use to think of as a brother has betrayed us, he has become a target that the assassins need to bring down. And that is just what we are going to do. If our brothers cannot see how blinded they are by his false words, we will try to make them see reason. I do not doubt that our blades will be red with the blood of men and women that were once our friends, but if it takes a war to end this tyranny, a war is what we must start and finish."

The men then spread out, knocking on doors, asking questions. Altair had sent Darim with Fakhir, keeping Tazim with him as they stood over the city, staring down at it. "Will the people fight with us?" the teenager asked after a moment of silence.

"I do not know for sure. If they want to change their lives, I believe they will. All it takes is a small spark to light a fire. Hopefully that spark will not be in vain."

"Master Altair..." his brows furrowed as he lowered his head, "I wish to go inside and rescue my father and Majid..."

"That's just what we are going to do, Tazim. Come with me."

They scaled a small cliff, coming up to the gates. Rauf was eager to greet them, a wide smile that Tazim had not seen in ages graced his lips as he hugged Altair. "Can you get us inside, brother?" Altair asked, the man nodding as he opened the gate, allowing them to slip inside. "Wait here for us. If you hear the bells make for the city below where the people are been gathered for a fight."

"Safety and peace, Altair," Rauf said, reaching through the bars to place his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"And to you as well."

The two checked their hoods, quickly to make sure they would not be seen as who they were at first glance, before making their way up the sloping path. No one gave them a second glance, which relieved them as they made their way down to the dungeons below. As a guard turned, Altair rushed forward, putting his arm around his neck, blocking his airway until he passed out, then laid him on the ground. He repeated this action, taking the ring of keys that the last of the guards had on his belt, and turned in to the empty hallway of cells.

"Majid!" Tazim gasped, rushing to his great uncle, the master assassin flipping through the keys and unlocking the door. The boy rushed forward, hugging the man, who stood, hugging him back.

"Get Malik," Majid ordered first, Altair nodding and leaving, heading down the hall, looking into each cell. How far in was he imprisoned? He came to a door, and gulped as he flipped through the keys. This room he knew well, even though he had only seen the inside once. This was where they kept prisoners whom were being interrogated. They were hurt, and sometimes tortured until they broke and told them what they wanted, or until they finally died under the pressure of so much torture. He hoped beyond all his prayers that Malik was not dead.

He turned the key, opened the door, stepped inside, and looked around. It was dark, but small cracks of light from three parts of the cell gave enough light for him to find a slowly moving form in the far corner. He rushed forward, placing his hand to his shoulder, blinking as he felt something wet. He held his hand to the air, frowning deeply at the sight of red on his fingers.

He wrapped his arms around the man, picking him up so his head rested against his shoulder, and carried him to the hall, seeing Malik's face for the first time. He was naked, bloodied, and thin, very thin, with cuts and bruises all over his body. "Oh Malik..." he choked, a tear falling from his eye. He glanced up at Majid and Tazim, who stared in horror of the state of the man who was just leading them not to long ago.

Majid rushed to the side, grabbing a cloth from the wall, and helped cover him, and looking to Altair, "There is a doctor in the town. If we can get out of here, we can take him to him."

Altair nodded and looked back to Malik, who weakly groaned, his eyes drifting open slightly, "Altair?" he asked, his voice raspy and worn.

"I'm here Malik, just hold on, okay? We are going to get you out of here."

"I'm glad I could see you... one last time..." His eyes drifted back to close, his face pressing against his shoulder. Altair opened his mouth to say something, but knew it would go on deaf ears, as Malik was no longer conscious once again.

"Majid, Tazim, can you both scout ahead? Make sure those in our path are out of it. We need to get him out of here," he stated, the two nodding and rushing out of the hall. He leaned back against the wall, giving them a few minutes head start as he looked over his love's face. "I'm so sorry, Mal..." he whispered, lowering his head.

"So sorry..."

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>Oh gosh, I'm really sorry for ending this chapter here. I know, it is awful of me, but I had to =[<p>

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, and poor poor Malik =[

Please let me know how I am doing, whether by review or PM, any feed back is lovely!

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>ChaosShadowWalkerWolf<span>_: Thank you so much! It means a lot to hear you like my style that much :) And I am glad you are liking the story so much :D

_eliina_: Yes :3 And they are finally together, despite the fact that Malik is not conscious Dx

_HoneyBee_: haha! That made me laugh. Yes, Alty loves his hay =w= xD


	35. Chapter 35

**The Story of a Rafiq**

**Chapter 35**

**Note**: It seems there was a slight misunderstanding in the previous chapter. For those who did not catch it: No, Malik is not dead. He is simply very weak to the point where he thinks he is on his last strands of life. I hope this clears up any misunderstandings :(

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><p>Altair moved swiftly through the castle underground, following the path, and the occational knocked out guard, that Majid and Tazim had left behind. It was easily, with the help of Rauf, to leave the gates unnoticed and unharmed, and since there were hardly any people on the streets it was easy to get to the hideout that Rauf led them to.<p>

He laid Malik on a table, the doctor rushing into the room and tsking, muttering something incoherent under his breath, and setting out to stitch his wounds, bandage him up, and clean him as best as he could. Surprisingly the only broken thing the Ex-Rafiq had was a rib, but he said that it was just a crack that would heal over time. Overall, the man was simply broken, dehydrated, and in need of a meal, all that would have to wait until he woke up.

Altair did not leave his side, other than the first hour of them being there, showing the men that showed up that he was who he claimed to be, and confirming the claim that they were going to strike the traitors down for what they've done. Tazim was glad that he was reunited with his partner, and Amro was happy to have both his best friend and his father back. The three of them stuck close together, while Majid and Rauf stuck to the side, answering any and all questions that they could while Malik was looked after.

It was the second day since they rescued Malik, who had only woken once to sip at water, and eat two spoonfuls of broth before he promptly passed out once again. Altair had his head in his lap, caressing his hair out of his face, frowning down at him as he sweat, his forehead hot to the touch. He reached to the side, taking a wet cloth from a bowl, wringing it out, and pressing it to his face, dabbing it against his skin in an attempt to cool him down.

"Altair..." Malik's voice was distant and weak, his eyes slowly opening as he looked up at the assassin above him."I am sorry... For everything. Your faith in me was misplaced..."

"My faith was not misplaced," Altair argued, running a hand through his love's hair, once again, "You are a great man, whom I will again and again put my faith in. No one man can fight against an army of assassins, Malik. Do not be so hard on yourself."

Malik nodded slightly, wincing as he tried to sit up, the assassin helping him, and turning so his legs were on each of his sides, "Here," he whispered, scooting forward so the smaller man leaned back against his chest. "Would you like some water?"

"Not right this second," he shook his head, letting out a sigh as he leaned his head back against his shoulder, "Is Abbas dead?"

"So eager," he half-joked, wrapping his arms delicately around his middle, "He is away for now. When he returns we will strike, but for now we are just trying to infiltrate the fortress and gain more support."

"I would like to question him before he is killed..." his eyes were hard with anger, even though his expression was so weak. Altair gave a curt nod before he reached for his wet cloth, and dabbed his head with it.

"Your fever went down significantly," he stated, feeling his cheek with his palm.

"You should have just left me and went after the imbecile while he was away from the castle," he growled in response.

"What happened to planning?" Altair scolded, the Ex-Rafiq looking off to the side annoyed, "I understand your frustration Mal, but in reality the men love you. If you were not here there would be a spark missing. I know they wouldn't feel right without you, and most certainly I know I wouldn't feel right."

Malik was silent. He knew Altair was right, but he was mad. He felt he had every right to be. He was left alone for all that time only to be taken advantage of by someone that he did not think had any power. How did he do it? Every man that turned against him, why did they all do it? He looked up at the door that opened, and smiled lightly as his adoptive son walked in. The teen walked over, and sat on the floor next to them, looking down at him.

"How do you feel, Baba?"

"More tired than I really care to admit," he chuckled, moving from Altair's arms to sit up. "Darim is alright?"

"Yes. We did as you ordered and stayed in Acre. That's where we met with Master Altair."

"Something is troubling you, what is it?" he frowned, seeing the hurt in the boy he raised's eyes.

"Amro... He's..." his nose scrunched up slightly in a grimace "He's getting married."

Malik frowned at this. Tazim's reaction was that of someone who's heart was pained because of this news. He looked to Altair, who shared the same sad look as Malik wore, then looked back to him, "I am sorry."

"I'm suppose to be happy for him, but all I can do is stay silent. I cannot congratulate him, I cannot even bare to look at him. Growing up with such an understanding with how love can work... I never expected to ever find it, but... I did. And when I did, I thought I'd end up like you two, like Majid and Tamir were..." he shook his head, "I apologize, I shouldn't be saying any of this, you need to rest Baba..."

"Tazim," Malik reached his arm out and took the teenager's hand, "I know it is difficult. I know you do not want to have to deal with any of this... But it does happen. When we fall in love with someone, it doesn't always fall into place like a story. Majid and Tamir were lucky to have found each other, and Altair and I as well. No, our relationships were never perfect, we did have our struggles, but someday, you too will find someone to love like this. Sometimes it just takes time."

"Altair sir," a novice rushed into the room, "Scouts reported that Abbas has turned around. He is fully informed that you are back sir, and that Masters Majid and Malik escaped."

"How far are they?"

"About four days ride, sir."

"That gives us enough time to prepare an ambush..." he pressed his fingers to his chin as he thought, "Alert the others, tell them to make ready. We do not know what will happen, but we will not be caught off guard."

The novice nodded and rushed out of the room, Tazim standing and clenching his fists, "Altair sir, I would like to be in the first attack against him."

"What is your motive?" Malik snapped, narrowing his eyes upward towards the teen.

"To be honest, revenge. He kidnapped you and Majid, Father. He betrayed Master Altair."

"More of a reason for you to be in the back," Malik turned his head away, Altair grimly smiling before nodding his head.

"As long as you fight with your head and not your anger."

"Altair-!"

"He has a right to do what he wants. He is an adult Malik, and no matter how much it pains you to watch your son head to a fight, but he needs this."

Malik lowered his head, knowing that Altair was right. He was still weak, disoriented, and just the idea of Tazim not coming back hurt him. He nodded his head, the older Master waving his hand to the teen who walked over and put his hand to Malik's shoulder, "I promise I will be careful, Baba."

The Ex-Rafiq nodded, and watched as the boy left the room, "It will also get his mind off of Amro," Altair stated, placing a bowl of broth in Malik's lap and scooting behind him, his legs on both his sides, "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Malik..." he pulled him to lay against him again, and picked up the spoon, bringing the broth to his lips, "Please?" He scowled, and reluctantly complied as he leaned his head forward, taking the spoon in his mouth. As soon as the substance hit his stomach, it lurched with hunger, growling as if to tell him to keep eating. This made the assassin chuckle, the other glaring at nothing in particular, but taking the spoon and eating the meal. He ate every bite, before slumping against the other, groaning as he set the bowl to the side.

"Feel better?"

"I feel I ate too much."

"Least you ate," he grinned, keeping his arms around him. He did not reply, staying silent, his breathing starting to slow into a softer rhythm. "Are you falling asleep?" he moved his head so that he looked at him and grinned as he looked at the sleeping man in his arms. He carefully laid him down, and let out a sigh as he stood up.

Abbas was going to be here, it was just a matter of time. But where did they want to stage the attack? Not in the city, they did not want to get the citizens wrapped up in another fight, but where? He stepped outside of the room and looked at all the men in the larger living area of the room. Did they all have the same reason to fight as them? Probably not. But did Altair trust that each and every one was going to be fighting at his side? Yes.

"Altair," he looked to the side, nodding at Rauf, who had his hood down for the first time (least that he had seen) since they were novices. "Majid has crafted a plan to corner Abbas. It is simple, but I believe it will work."

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><p>It was the day that Abbas and his company were due to arrive. The assassins took to hiding in the woods, concealed by the trees from the trail they stood by It had been hours, but no one moved an inch, their eyes focused on the path, awaiting for the men to show up. Altair stood next to Tazim, a compromise he had to make to Malik in order to allow the teenager to go, his eyes trained down the road.<p>

"Master Altair," he looked to Tazim, then down the opposite side of the road at a limping scout they had set up in Masyaf.

Altair moved swiftly to the road, catching the man before he fell, an arrow wound deep in his thigh, his side drenched in blood from a stab wound, "Abbas Sofian and his men are at the castle sir, the men there are fighting, they somehow knew... They took another route..." he cringed as he struggled to stay alive, but soon failed, his head going limp.

"Safety and peace, brother," he whispered, and stood upright, "Brothers! To Masyaf! We have been betrayed, we lead an attack on the traitors!" he called out, his eyes fixed on Tazim and Majid who moved to his side as the others ran to breach the city. Two other assassin's stayed behind, taking the body of the scout, no doubt to hide it until it could be properly taken care of.

"I think I know who the traitor is," Majid whispered, once the two were out of ear shot.

"As do I."

"Who?" Tazim questioned, Majid's jaw tightening as he looked away.

"It is either Amro, or his father..." Altair stated softly, the teen's eyes widening slightly.

"It couldn't be Amro. Never, he'd never-"

"When you were hiding in Acre, he gave away your location to Abbas. It was sheer luck that Altair had shown up the day he did," Majid explained, rubbing the back of his head, "If he hadn't the brothers on Abbas' side no doubt would have hunted you and Darim."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"It was a rumor," Altair stated, "And seeing as he was your partner I was giving him the benefit of the doubt. His father, however, when he was overseas with me was very shady. I made it so none of the assassin's could write out to anyone, stating it was more of a risk of the Templar guards finding us, but more so because I did not trust Hani and feared he would betray us."

"And how do you have proof?" Tazim was trying to find a way to bail his partner and his partner's father out of being accused of something so horrible.

"When Hani and Amro left earlier this morning before we set out for the ambush, we had a scout follow them. They stayed in a resting location a few miles north from here. Another scout, one we recognized to be one of Abbas' men, came and swapped words and information with him, then returned home. Shortly before we were alerted of Abbas in Masyaf I noticed them slipping away."

"Let the boy see for himself, Altair," Majid placed a hand on the younger master assassin's shoulder, "We need to go to Masyaf ourselves. We cannot delay any longer."

"I do not believe Amro would do such a thing," Tazim whispered, following the two, his head lowered as they jogged forward, heading back to the city, and breaking out into a run when they saw the smoke coming from it.

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><p>The battle the three assassins approached, were something they never wanted to see. Brother against brother, all wearing the garbs of an assassin. The only way to tell one from the other were the expressions on their face. The anger and fear on their faces, the hatred and sorrow, it all helped weave the map of who was friend and who was foe.<p>

"Altair!" a bloodied assassin rushed forward, his hand on his arm, "Abbas has fleed to the fortress."

"Thank you."

Without another word, he and Tazim raced to the side, taking to the cliffs as they climbed over them. No doubt they would run into more brothers here. They expected it. As the traitors stood at the top of the cliffs, they did not expect them to be there so quickly. Tazim and Altair reached out, taking their robes and throwing them behind them, climbing up and bracing for a fight. But there were no other guards. Were all his men down in the city?

"I've been expecting you." The two looked towards a flower bush that Abbas Sofian stood next to. He plucked one of the white flowers from it's stem and looked at it before letting it flutter down to the ground. "Tell me, Altair. How is Maria?" he knew the man was taunting him about his fallen wife, and did not say anything. "Come now, Altair. You must be hurt knowing that she betrayed you."

"She had her own life, and I have mine," he growled in return.

"It did not come to you as a shock then?"

"Nothing shocks me anymore, Abbas. The cruelty of others, your betrayal, hers... It's how some people react, and in turn lose the precious gift of life for their punishment."

The man clenched his jaw, walking over to a stone bench, and sitting on it, putting his hand on a brown sack that was dripping blood. "Let me tell you a story."

"I do not have time for your mind games," Altair stepped forward, baring his teeth in both anger and annoyance.

"You intend to kill me. Do you not want to hear my last words, as you do your other targets?"

"Then speak quickly."

"It was not Maria who was working for the Templar army, but I." Tazim made a soft sound of disgust, but stayed put as he glared at the other. "They seek the same as us, brother. They seek peace, though their way of gaining it is a bit distorted, they seek the same as us. They showed me their plans, they mapped out the future and what would happen. The weak would be taken care of, the traitors put to death, all who love in the world would be left to live out their lives peacefully. But, as soon as I decided to join their side that wench found me out. She left a note with Malik, knowing she would not return, and followed me to kill me. Unfortunately for her, I had the upper hand.

"I waited till she caught up with me, and when she least expected it I snuffed out her life like a candle. You see, if she killed me, then I could not relay information to the Templar army about you, I could not tell them of the man who held on to the Apple. I could never sit here, knowing the pain you are about to feel, I could never sit here and wait for death patiently while I know that the assassin's are fighting each other, unknowing of the Templar army that waits to strike."

Altair's eyes hardened, "You murdered my wife, you betrayed your brothers, you have led us all to death. What part of any of this ends in peace? More death means more pain, more pain leads to more revenge. More revenge leads to more wars. How will this plan ever end in peace?!" he yelled out, flicking out his hidden blade and glaring at him, the younger assassin taking a step back and rushing to the cliff, looking out at the cluster of white, squirming and moving in the distance.

"Master Altair! The Templars!" he pointed out, the older man growling in anger.

"Now, for the final pivot point in the plot. The thing that you will indeed kill me for," he stood, taking the bloodied sack by it's top, then tipping it over, a head falling out. "The head of Malik Al-Sayf."

Altair did not even look at the man's face. Enraged, he stepped forward, thrusting his blade into the traitor's throat, listening the the gurgle of blood that escaped his lips. He smiled, his teeth coated in blood as his eyes rolled back, his body falling limp to the floor.

Tazim was the first to rush to the head, turning it over and falling back on his rear-end, his brows furrowed. It was not Malik. He glanced up at Altair, who looked down slowly. "It is Hani, sir," he whispered. Of course. Malik wasn't dead, even if he was weak at the moment he would not be so easily killed. He would have fought back. "It is bad, I am relieved."

"As am I. We need to go to our brothers, we need to stop this fight." He walked to the cliff once again, aiming before leaping forward, landing in a pile of well-placed hay and stepping out. He waited a moment, the boy landing now, and looking to him as he dusted the hay off of him.

With Abbas dead, would the brothers stop fighting? He only hoped so...

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><p><strong>Note:<strong>

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><p>I apologize for the delay of this chapter, I've been very preoccupied with life, and trying to get everything done x.x; I hope you forgive me, especially with the death of this man!<p>

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><p><strong>Review Responses<strong>

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><p><em>Midnightxwolf<em>x: D: I'm sorry, please don't hurt me ;~;

_eliina_: Malik will always be okay, especially with me writing about him xD. I hope Abbas' death makes you happy :)

_Guest who was too lazy to log in at work xD_: He did, he did~ Don't worry, Malik won't die -pats back-

_HoneyBee:_ I'm glad the last chapter made you happy :) I hope this one did as well!


	36. Chapter 36

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 36

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><p>Tazim and Altair raced back to the city as quickly as possible. Word of Abbas' death was spread quickly by the guards in the castle, and soon even reached the men on their side, causing a stand still. Was that all that it took for them to side with someone? Lose their original leader? How disloyal. The master assassin shook his head as he approached Majid, who stood outside of the house Malik was inside of.<p>

"There's a Templar army heading this way," he stated, the other's eyes widening and looking at him in horror. "We need to rally up as many men as we can. We must stop them."

"This is Abbas' doing, is it not?" the older man asked, narrowing his eyes as Altair let out a soft sigh.

"Yes, but with his death we can show our brothers the evil he has brought to us. Hurry, spread word of their arrival." The older man rushed away, the master turning to Tazim, who looked around almost nervously. "Tazim, I need you to find as many of the younger novices as possible. Take them to the castle to the safe bunker down below it. If you still wish to fight, after they are safe you may join us."

"I will guard them, Master Altair," the teen stated, the older man nodding, knowing fully well after Abbas' death the other had seen enough death.

When Tazim was out of sight, the master assassin walked into the house, and to Malik's room. He could not deny that he was feeling restless even though the head had not belonged to his lover. As soon as his eyes hit the man standing at a window, a wave of relief washed over his body. The Ex-Rafiq turned, and blinked as he rushed forward, bringing him into a tight embrace.

"I love you," Altair whispered, the other's brows furrowing in confusion and hugging him back.

"Altair, what happened? I heard that Abbas was killed?"

"He's dead. He claimed to have killed you, and even though I knew it was not true, it still clouded my eyes."

"You killed him enraged?" Altair hesitated, then nodded. "I'd normally scold you, but to be honest I don't particularly care."

"How do you feel?"

"Better," he paused, looking to the door as Rauf entered.

"Masters, the brothers are ready."

"Ready for what?" Malik questioned, peering up at Altair, brows raised.

"There's a Templar army approaching. Abbas led them here."

"Then I will help-"

"You are still resting."

"I am not a child, Altair. I am fine!" he snapped, glaring at the other, "I rested enough."

"Master Malik, we should be fine," Rauf stated, the other turning his glare to him instead, "I mean... Your help would be much appreciated."

"Rauf!" Altair snapped, the gate watchmen looking uncomfortably torn between the two.

"Get my sword," Malik ordered, the man nodding and rushing out of the room to get what he requested.

Altair stared at him a moment, before sighing and walking to the side, pulling out master robes and laying them on the bed. The younger man peered at him, curiously, but did not say a word, undressing from the thin robe he was wearing and putting them on. Once he was properly dressed, he turned, straightening them out, and glancing at the assassin, who had to contain his smile.

"Although I am against you fighting, I will not deny it is good to see you in those robes."

Malik stared down at the robes he had only seen master assassin's wear, He never was able to to wear them himself, being pushed all the way to Rafiq before he ever had the honor to wear them. He grinned down and then looked to the door, taking his sword with a nod and fastening it to his side. "I will be fine."

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><p>Malik and Altair stood at the front of the castle walls, staring down the hill at the approaching cloud of men. Many assassin's from both Abbas' side and their side stood behind them, looking fierce and ready for battle. Majid explained what Abbas' plan was, turning many (almost all) of the assassin's back to their side. Altair was not sure of how loyal they would be afterward, but during the current fight he did not doubt them. There was little fear from their side, but the sight of how many assassins they were having to fight caused fear to weld up in the Templar's expressions.<p>

There was no movement from either side. Both walls of men stared at each other, watching and waiting for someone to make a move. Then it happened. The Templar captain in the front stepped forward, drawing his sword and yelling out as he pointed it towards the men they were up against. The wall began to move, the Assassins standing still, watching as they charged forward. Majid stepped forward, drawing his blade, sending a shock wave of clanging as the men behind them did the same. Altair held his hand up, holding it in place, before finally dropping it.

Majid roared his voice, running forward, the men coming up behind him, passing Altair and Malik who stood their ground a moment. They both surveyed the land, before Malik darted forward, challenging the first red helmet that he could find. That was their plan. Take out as many of the higher ranked Templars as possible. Without their leaders, they would flee, saving more men than if they went forward with the thought process to slaughter.

Hours passed by like seconds as men from both sides fell. Even with a missing arm, Malik was fighting as fierce as any other man. Altair fought hard, making sure to spare any man he could, but failing as he had to defend himself more often than not. It was nearly nightfall before the screams started. "Retreat!" some of the cowardly captains began to call, once they noticed that all the more braver ones had already fallen. No one cheered over the victory. Too many people died. This battle could have been avoided if only they stayed strong to Malik, and had not listened to the snake words of Abbas and Swami.

Though, despite the blame being spread about, no one dared to even point a finger. They collected themselves, making their way back home, helping the wounded to get to the few doctors they had. Malik and Altair took to disposing of the dead, piling the nameless Templar soldiers up, then lighting them with fire. It was not long before they noticed Tazim among the other men who were helping them, Malik hugging his adopted son, and staying still as the teenager shook in his arms.

"Too many men died here today," the teenager murmured, rubbing at his left eye as he struggled not to let a tear fall.

"Because you see that makes you wise," Malik whispered, looking to the stars that were shining above.

"We will have to get to the others later," Altair stated, walking over to them, holding a torch up, "It's too dark now to see."

Nodding his agreement, Malik and Tazim joined the other, heading back to the castle where they found a distressed Majid standing at the gates. He tripped on his tongue several times as he tried to force the words from his mouth, before he just gave up and led them to the doctor's quarters. There, they were met with many people, either being treated for their wounds, or laying and waiting for their deaths.

"Fakhir," Malik whispered, stepping forward and leaning down next to the man, who grabbed at his hand.

"Malik. I'm glad... you are here," he whispered, his lips and teeth stained with blood, "I get to apologize for how cold I had been."

"That's just your personality, brother," he weakly smiled. "You helped Altair out, when I could not. Thank you."

"It was an honor. It was an honor... to have you and Altair both... as my masters," he smiled wide, his grin soon fading as the life left his eyes.

"Peace brother," he whispered, reaching up and closing his eyes, standing up and looking back at Altair, who stared down at him grimly. His eyes glanced to Majid, who lowered his head and stepped towards the back of the room, the two men following.

"Rauf!" Altair rushed forward, the man sitting up, his back to the wall as he stared in the distance.

"He will be fine as soon as we get that leg and arm off," the doctor stated, making the man wince and look away almost in shame.

"What happened?"

"Was just making a few too many mistakes," Rauf stated, grabbing his arm with his good arm and letting out a shaky sigh.''

"Let's go, we need to get those limbs off before they fester," the doctor stated, another man helping him carry Rauf off to the side to do the deed.

There were many people like Rauf, where they had to lose a limb, but that was a lucky situation. It was better than losing your life, and that's the hope that they had to cling on to. Altair and Malik left the ward, looking among the castle for nothing in particular. This, their home, was taken from them but restored just as quickly. It was a miracle that nothing worse happened.

"The Templars might be back," Malik whispered as they stared out at the dark land.

"They will, eventually. There's so much out there that I found out, and so much that we won't know. This all just seems too big for us."

"Maybe, in time it won't seem that way."

Altair grinned, then grimaced, putting his hand to his cheek, the Ex-Rafiq shaking his head, taking his hand and pulling him to their quarters. He pushed him to sit on the bed, walking out of the room once more, and returning with a bow of water and a cloth. He dabbed the cloth in the water, pressing it to the slice on Altair's cheek and working to clean it.

"How do you feel?" Altair whispered, reaching up and placing a hand on his lover's cheek.

"Worn out, same as many of our other men."

"Malik..." he pulled his hand away, "I'm worried. You were starved, beaten, and yet you still went against my will and fought."

"I had every right to fight. You are treating me as if I am a cripple, Altair. My body is good enough to stab out a few Templar captains, and I survived. Why do you doubt me?" he was hurt, sitting back and looking to the other bed wanting to curl up in it and stay away from the other.

"That's not what I meant, Mal. I have never doubted you. I just wish that you'd listen."

"Like you?" he raised a brow, looking to him, knowing fully well that he was going to argue, "You rarely listen to what anyone else wants, why should I?"

Altair held his tongue, knowing he was right, surprising the other who rolled his eyes and re-pressed the cloth to the assassin's face, "Look. We both need rest. I know that I am not the only one who's emotions are conflicting with fatigue. You may be a strong man, but after a fight we just had there is no way one person would not be tired."

"Malik, I'm scared."

"What?" the smaller man's brows raised as he stared up at the other's face, confused.

"What if all of this... All that we've been fighting for all our lives..." his voice trailed off as his brows knitted together, "What if everything we've known and have been fighting for is wrong?"

"Have you ever felt that stopping a corrupt man from continuing his horrible deeds was wrong?"

"Well, no."

"Have you ever regretted making the innocent people out there less worried about stepping out their doors?"

"No."

"Then why are you doubting what we believe in?"

"Al Mualim strayed, and so did Abbas. What if they strayed for a reason we cannot see?"

Malik hesitated for a moment. He was right. Although he personally never trusted Abbas, he never doubted his loyalty to the Creed. And their ex-master, no one ever doubted him. He was a little rough around the edges, but he always stood for what they believed in.

"Two men that were acting out of what they were," he stated, removing the cloth and dropping it in the bowl. When Altair peered at him, looking for an answer, the other smiled, "They were human, Altair. We make mistakes. It's how we correct them, and learn from them that makes us different from Al Mualim and Abbas."

"How is it that you always know what to say?" Altair questioned, smiling as he pulled Malik into an unexpected hug.

"I do not always, but when I think my words can help, I will say them."

The two were silent, holding each other. They did not know for how long, nor did they really mind just sitting there. There was a soft knock on the door, the two pulling apart as the door opened and Darim stepped in. Tazim followed, being pulled by his hand by the younger boy.

"He wanted to make sure you two were alright. He wouldn't take my word for it," the teenager stated, the boy letting go of his hand and worming his way between them so he could hug them both.

"We're alright," Malik stated, grinning lightly, then looking to Tazim, "Are you?"

"I do not know. I am sad for our brothers, and wish I could have spared them the pain of passing away like they did."

"They died defending their homes," Malik stated, before Altair had the time to state something. "If nothing else, they died for a just cause. Yes, it is always sad, and you always will wonder what you could have done to save the lives of the lost, but you must always keep in mind that although they have passed on, they did what they wanted to do. They could have turned away and left, but they didn't. It's a bravery that I don't think I will ever really know, but it's a bravery that I am thankful that I have, that Altair has, that you have."

"I could not run away, even if I wanted to," Tazim argued, shaking his head lightly.

"Baba, you aren't leaving again, are you?" Darim asked, changing the subject, feeling that it was best to.

"I do not plan to, no. I believe I spent enough time away from home, and I feel that my place is here."

"Good. Because if you leave, this time I'm going with you," he growled, standing up and grinning. "Tazim, lets go see Majid," he turned, grabbing the teen's hand once again, and pulling him out of the room without another word.

Altair laughed lightly, and shook his head, "Your son has got his work cut out for him with Darim."

"Same as me. I have my work cut out for you. Always have."

"I'm not _that_ bad," the other scoffed, laying back on the bed and letting out a long sigh.

"Oh yes, hardly," he stood and walked over to a pile of clothes, "You should probably change into something else if you are going to sleep," he stated, glancing back over to the other man and shaking his head. Altair was already passed out, breathing deeply, his hood still donned over his head. "Or just sleep in that."

Malik changed out of his master robes, folding them with care and setting them down, changed into clothes he could sleep in, and padded back over to the other. He curled up next to him, leaning his head on his shoulder, the other moving slightly so that his arm wrapped around him, allowing him to lay against his chest instead. His heart beat was soft, like a lullaby that he could listen to forever.

And that was the Ex-Rafiq's plan. He wanted to listen to him forever.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>Christmas and New Years leaves me with next to no time to write at all x.x I am sorry for the delay, and hope you enjoyed this chapter at any rate, despite that some of it was sad-ish, and a bit slow in other parts.<p>

The end is coming up quickly. I can't believe that it's almost over Dx

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em>Ookamikuro<em>: Well, as much as I don't like Abbas, I wanted him to remain a little human and give him a little remorse. If Altair had shown up a bit later, the man probably would have had more time to work it through his mind that Malik would never betray Altair, and would have hurt him further. But because of the amount of time he was given with Malik being captured, he still held on to those feelings he had of having Malik as a partner, and growing up beside him.

_Midnightxwolfx_: I know =[ I felt bad having it happen. He will be happy in the end though!

_Future Dictator Inc_: I could never actually kill Malik, least in that sort of situation. I personally feel that Malik would have put up more of a fight than that in the book, but I wasn't the one writing it so I couldn't put my input there xD

_AllxThatxRemains_: I'm sorry to have scared you xD He won't die, I promise~

_HoneyBee_: Nono, Malik won't die :3, I could never do that to him -hugs him-

_Unknown_: sorry for scaring you xD He's okay :3

_Random HeShe_: I'm glad I didn't make you cry then! I'm glad you think so :) Thank you~


	37. Chapter 37

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 37

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><p>"So..." Malik placed his hand on his knee, sitting next to Altair, who sat at the Master's desk, staring down at the mess of papers that the Ex-Rafiq had sprawled across it. He glanced to Altair, who had the Apple sitting in his lap, and stared down at it. It was amazing how plain it was as it just sat there. If one did not witness it's powers, it would be easy to mistaken it for something useless. A mere art project if anything. "Where had you gone?"<p>

"Mongolia mostly. Till I traveled to Spain. That is where I sent word for more assassins. I saw the Templars breeding, and blinding the people into believing their ways... In Mongolia I had a friend, but in Spain I knew no one."

"A Friend?"

"Qulan Gal. He had contacted me and told me of a man by the name of Genghis Khan. He was accused of having a 'Piece of Eden' which was described to be much like the Apple."

"Piece of Eden? There are more of these artifacts?" Malik's eyes widened as he leaned forward, sitting at the edge of his seat.

"Yes. Many more, from what Qulan had told me. But, in any case. Khan was an evil man. It took quite a while to find out if he was really using a Piece of Eden, but in the end he did not have any. Relieved by this we devised a plan to kill him, and end his tyranny."

"I assume you were successful?"

Altair's brows furrowed slightly as he put his hand to his cheek and scratched it, almost absent-mindlessly, "I... was not, no. One of Qulan's men had shot him with a bow ending his life. No, I failed, and would have died if not for my friend."

"So you made a blunder. It happens."

"It did not always happen Malik..." he droned, leaning back, cupping the artifact in his hands.

"What are you meaning to say?"

"I'm getting old. I am not as quick as I use to be."

"Oh come off it. So you made a mistake. Who cares? The man is dead, and you are alive and well. You came home, rid a minor tyrant of our own of his life, and fought a battle on our doorstep. Do not belittle yourself just because of a small mishap."

Altair was silent for a moment, then let out a soft sigh and nodded his head, "I suppose you are right."

"Of course I am," he stated, grinning as Altair gave him a perplex look, "So. As you were saying, after this Genghis Khan was killed?"

"I traveled about, following rumors of small bands of Assassins, but the further I went toward Spain, the more false the rumors became, and I could find no more brothers, not even a whisper of them. There were Templars everywhere I went, and once I got to Spain I was both awe struck and terrified to find that the people there still praised Robert de Sable as if he was alive, or some sort of god. The people who did not support the Templars needed to fight back. They wanted to. The more I spoke with them the more I found that they were eager to know of our ways."

"So you sent for help."

"Which, thankfully, you sent. After I was positive they knew enough, I willed myself to travel home. I never thought we'd be on a boat with a Templar Army, and had to dress up as a lowly passenger, and pray to Allah that we did not get caught. It was a miracle in its self, but none of us were caught. The rest, I believe you know."

"Yes," Malik nodded, sitting back in his chair and rubbing the back of his head, "What will you do with the Apple?"

"When the time comes I will dispose of it in a proper way."

"Why not now?"

"There are some things I still want to do with it. There is so much to learn from it. I discovered a metal, here, feel it," he pulled off his bracer that he had not noticed before was different than the ones they had in the store room.

The younger man took it and blinked as he bounced it up and down slightly, "It's so light." The markings in it did not seem human, but also did at the same time. He got a strange and comfortable feeling from it, and found himself relieved that Altair had such an armor. He knocked against it and winced, his eyes shooting back to Altair, "And it's so hard!"

"Yes. I should have made you some armor with it as well, but I did not want it to fall in the wrong hands. Especially since I was moving about so much in foreign land. It was bad enough I was wearing this foreign metal at all."

"When would I use it anyway?" he grinned, handing him back the bracer, "What else have you learned from it?"

"A bit more on how to control it, though I will admit, I will not dare use the powers. although, I have gotten a bit of inspiration from being around the people of Mongolia. They use Crossbows quite a bit, and although they are a bit on the bulky side maybe there is something we could make to modify the hidden blade?" he glanced over to his love, who nodded.

"Yes. Maybe a sort of projectile device? We could test some ideas out." he watched as Altair turned his head away and glanced back at the apple in his lap. He slowly took it, and placed it on the desk so that it would sit still on once of it's many markings. He stared at it, his eyes almost glazed over as he stared at every curve of the markings on the device.

Malik frowned and sat back a moment, before he stood and walked in front of him, straddling him, jolting him from his trance. He glanced upward, and let him pull his hood down, and run his hand through his hair. "It's been a while since we've been like this," he whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

The assassin wrapped his arms around his middle, pulling him closer, nuzzling his face in his chest as he clung to him. He took in the scent that was strictly Malik's and grinned rubbing his hands up and down his back. "I love you Malik," he whispered, pulling back to glance back up at him.

They weren't sure who moved first, but their lips crushed together desperately, needing to feel each other for the first time in what seemed like a life time. Malik clung to Altair's hair, while the bottom assassin clung to the back of his robes. Their tongues slid together, battling like swords in a life or death battle. They pulled back to breath, the older assassin picking him up by his waist and pushed him back on the desk. He pushed the apple aside, the device only being stopped from falling to the ground by all the papers Malik had on the desk. Altair grinned, leaning down between his legs and pressing his lips to his ear, nipping, and licking the lobe.

Malik groaned, feeling Altair's hand push up his robes, rubbing his chest and finding his nipple and rubbing it. The Ex-Rafiq wrapped his legs around the other, pulling him closer, shivering as the other's tongue ran from his ear to the nape of his neck. With his free hand, Altair cupped at the lower's growing erection, making him buck slightly and blush. "A-Altair," he stuttered, the other smirking and leaning back up to kiss him deeply. His hand immediately went to work, pushing his pants down over his rear, and taking his now freed cock in his hand and began to pump it.

There was a chill in the air, not that either of them felt it. Their body heat kept them warm. Malik's toes curled in his boots, his face flushed. Altair pulled back, licking his fingers, then resumed to kiss him, bringing his digits down below to tease at his hole between his folds. He started with one finger, allowing him to get use to the invasion, and not even bothering to ask if it was alright. They both wanted this. He knew that already, and knew if he even dared to ask the ex-Rafiq would only laugh at his question. The assassin below him focused on their tongues, ignoring the slight pain as he added another finger, and trying to ignore the stretching feeling he had almost forgotten. He had to remind himself, as he added a third, that it would get better. It always did.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, kissing his cheek and trailing to his neck, licking, nipping and sucking the sensitive flesh.

"Mmm, no," he lied, not wanting to worry him, and nearly jolting as his back arched, a louder moan escaping his lips as he felt his finger caress his prostate.

"I've missed this," the other cooed, stroking against it once more, making him squirm and pant. He let his other hand drop down to his own middle, freeing his member, that was already thick, hard, and ready. He stroked himself in time with his finger's thrusts. "I want you, Mal," he whispered, kissing at his ear. "Can I?"

"Y-yes. Do it..." he groaned, clinging to his shoulder to help stable himself from arching his back so often.

The pain wasn't as bad as he remembered it, but as soon as the hear of Altair's cock passed the rim of his opening, he found himself biting his lip, clenching his eyes closed. "I'm sorry," Altair whispered, pecking his lips over and over as he pushed inside him, fully sheathing himself.

"D-don't be," Malik stuttered, willing himself to open his eyes and caress his hand against his lover's stubble covered jaw, "This isn't something we haven't done before," he joked, leaning up to kiss the side of his mouth, "And I trust you."

Altair grinned, nodded his head, and kissed him once more, deeply, before sitting up slightly and pulling out slowly, and thrusting back in a bit faster. Each thrust went a little faster, making the pain flare up from the friction, but also the heat of pleasure slowly crept up the small man's spine.

"Ahh," he moaned out, his forgotten member twitching as pre-cum spilled out. Altair grinned wider at his reaction, reaching down and stroking his cock in time with his thrusts, making the one-armed man gasp out in desire. "H-harder!" he groaned, the other only more eager to comply, but sitting up and spreading his legs to give him more access, and thrusting hard against his prostate.

It was enough to make Malik cum, but he refrained, reaching down and grasping at his own member, trying hard not to release so soon. "I love you Malik," Altair whispered, pounding hard into him.

"I-I love you too, Altair," he moaned out, unable to control himself, his juices releasing into his hand, his rear muscles clenching from his orgasm, making the other slow down, groaning from the restriction. He thrust once more, hard, and releasing inside him, and pulling out, leaning over him, allowing his legs to drop and kissed his clothed chest.

The Ex-Rafiq sighed, running his hand through his hair, and leaning down to kiss his head, "I do believe that was better than last time."

"I've been waiting so long," Altair murmured, closing his eyes as he rested his head against his chest, listening to his heart beat.

"Well then..." Malik gulped at his sudden boldness, "What do you say to getting dressed and going back to our room to go again?"

Altair's eyes widened as he looked up at him in shock. He nodded his head, sitting up and pulling his pants up, waiting as Malik pulled up his own. He took a hold of Malik's hand, and snatched the Apple from nearly falling off the desk. He practically dragged the other to the tower, overeager, and ignoring the guards awkward glances as they passed. Did they hear them? The smaller man turned red at the thought, then shrugged it off, smiling at the giddy look on his lovers face.

Seems like the talk of being too old was now just a forgotten excuse. As they entered the room, he blushed as Altair tossed the Apple to one of the two beds, and proceeded to strip. He refrained from laughing, and refrained from bringing up his comment from before, taking his time from removing his clothes.

Old indeed.

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><p>Altair smiled, holding Malik close as he slept. He wasn't sure how long they had been locked away making love, but he was sure that it was quite a while, since the sun was long since set. He ran his hand through his love's hair and nuzzled his head against his, and pulling the blanket up to their naked chests. He glanced up at a soft knock, and watched as Majid stepped inside and smiled lightly at his friend.<p>

"No one else was brave enough to come in," the older man stated, rubbing the side of his neck.

"If it was urgent you could have come in," Altair stated, blinking but not moving so he wouldn't wake Malik.

"It's not urgent. Just rumors as usual, also..." he turned and looked around outside, before closing the door and looking back to him. "I wanted to know what we are going to do, and what we are going to tell the men that were on Abbas's side."

"If they wish to continue against us, tell them they can have a heads start in running away, but if they intend to fight us I will fight hard to see it their cause is damned just as much as the Templar's. They are still a threat out there, and will continue to grow, as shall we."

"Do we have a plan?"

"A plan for what?" Altair raised a brow, "The Templar army we fought has left with their tails between their legs. We shall go about our business with our ears open, training the novices and preparing for whatever is to come. Currently there is no other need for a plan. Not yet, at any rate."

Majid nodded his head and turned, heading out. What did Altair need a plan for? He thought for a moment, before sighing and looking to the other side of the room, at his old bed, where the Apple was laying. He thought for a moment, his eyes glazed over. He could not let anyone have it, that much was certain. His eyes narrowed slightly before he shook his head and cuddled back up to Malik. When he passed on from this world, he knew he had to take it with him. But how?

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>Oh but we all know, Altair. We all know~<p>

Hope you guys enjoyed the intimate scene, for however shortish it was xD. Originally it was going to be longer, but I thought it was already sort of just out there that I couldn't just make it even more out there.

I don't know how many of you follow me on deviantart here, but in case you had not seen: I will be posting chapters for this story on Mondays until it is completed. This is to ensure I don't lose my mind, gives me a proper dead line, and makes it fair for my original stories on there.

I hope everyone had a good new years~

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>eliina<span>_: I am also glad :3 It's no fun to write them apart from each other xD. Happy new years!

_HoneyBee_: Thank you so much for understanding. The holidays this year came as a sort of shock. Originally my mom wanted to be a scrooge and ignore them, then second to last week came around and my family from Germany popped up, and we had to spend our time scrambling around for a tree, the decorations and all our presents. Was a bit chaotic xD

_P1zz4eater29:_ I'm so glad that you like it. I am sorry that it is ending soon, thankfully I can ensure at the very least there should be 3-4 more active chapters before the end. I honestly did not even think I'd make it to 37 chapters without people wanting to kill me, so I am thankful for that at any rate xD


	38. Chapter 38

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 38

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><p>Malik awoke with a groan, rubbing the sleep from his eye as he sat up. He instantly regretted his movements, pain shooting up his spine, making him flop back against the bed again. How long had he been asleep? How late were they up making love the night before? As a matter of fact, where was Altair?<p>

He glanced around the room, confirming he was alone, and slowly got out of bed, and noticed a bucket of water, a clean cloth, and a note on top of the cloth. '_In case I am not back before you wake, here's some cleaning water. I've gone to speak with the men. -Altair_' Well, at least he thought enough to think ahead for him.

After cleaning himself, and dressing, he found himself wandering down to the courtyard, and watching as the novice's were being taught how to use a blade properly. He grinned, and glanced back as Tazim smiled, joining him. "How are you fairing?" the older man asked, glancing back at the pupils below.

"Well enough. And yourself? You must be glad to have Master Altair back."

"I am glad he is back, yes. I was in no position to lead the brotherhood."

"Nonsense, Baba. You did as well as anyone could do. Better, in fact. I'm positive a lesser man would have cracked long ago, and would not be able to handle Abbas as you did."

"Handle indeed. I do not believe I handled anything at all."

"You are loyal, father. One of your most excellent qualities."

Malik raised a brow, and looked to him, curiously, "There's something that you wish to ask. Something that you want," he stated, the boy grinning.

"You know me well."

"Compliments from your children always raise a level of suspicion," he noted, the boy smiling wider.

"Yes, well. I do have a request."

"Speak it."

"I would like to go to Damascus for a while. I know I tried living outside of the brotherhood before, but this time I would like to try it while still following the Creed. This way, if you need someone there you will already have someone."

"This doesn't have anything to do with Amro, does it?" he questioned, his eyes trailing from the short wall they leaned against, then to the boy he raised, who gave him a guilty glance.

"I need to get over him on my own terms. He may have been a traitor at one point, and he is already passed on in the battle, but that does not make me love him any less. He had a woman he was to marry, so I need to take some time to find peace so I do not sit around here and brood about what could have been."

Malik was astonished by this young man's words. He spoke beyond his years. He could tell the teenager was in pain, and staying where he met the other teen, and lived with him was not going to make things any easier for him.

"I may come back," he added as an afterthought, hoping that his guardian would take this and agree to his leaving. "In fact, I intend to eventually."

"You are eighteen years old, Tazim. A man. You do not need my permission to leave."

"But I want it. You may not be my birth father, but you raised me as your own child. You are more a father than an uncle to me, and I'd very much like to have your blessing of leaving."

Malik would be lying if he said that he wasn't thinking of telling him to stay. He stared down at the novices and had to tell himself three times that it was what was best for the teen before he allowed his mouth to even open. It opened and closed, like a fish, three times before he nodded his head, "You have my permission. Just make sure to say goodbye to everyone first, there is many more than just myself who care for you."

"I will Baba," the young man reached out, hugging him, making him smile very lightly as he hugged him back.

The Ex-Rafiq watched as the other ran to the dormitory tower, then also turned, rushing to the one place he knew he could be alone. He climbed up the stairs, pausing halfway to wipe at his eyes as tears threatened to pour down his cheeks. Once he made it to the top, he slammed the door closed and fell to his knees unable to hold back his tears.

He never thought about him ever leaving, and the thought of the boy he raised not being there all of a sudden frightened him. He'd be so far away. They could write, and see each other even, but it did not make it any less difficult.

He wasn't sure how long he was kneeling and crying. His tears finally stopped flowing, leaving behind his puffy feeling eyes and raw cheeks from his constant rubbing. He crawled over to the wall, and sat against it breathing deeply as he focused on clearing his mind. He knew from personal experience that tears, even if he felt he ran out, would soon be back if he kept his thoughts on what was making him cry.

He glanced up at the door, watching as Altair slipped past it, and grinned at him, "I knew you'd be here," he stated, closing the door behind him, and slipping next to him. He was silent for a moment, before he sighed and slouched slightly against the rocky surface, "He will be fine. You raised him, after all."

"I'm not worried about him," Malik whispered, ignoring his growing need to cry once again, "I will just miss him."

"He's a good kid. There's a lot to miss. Hell, I've only known him a short time and I'm attached to him," he paused and looked to the other, who was bringing his hand to rub against his nose, "But I guess me saying these things aren't much help. Never did pride myself in words of comfort."

"You being here is comfort enough," the younger stated, leaning his head against his shoulder.

Altair thought a moment, then leaned his head against Malik's, "I'm speaking with an architect and planning on building a massive library beneath the castle."

"What?" Malik blinked, "Why? We have a perfectly fine library as it is."

"You, who loves reading, is denying the idea of a bigger library?" he half laughed, "How uncharacteristically awkward."

"It's not that I think it's a bad idea, it's just slightly confusing that you want a library. You don't even like reading, least when it comes to things you don't have to read."

"That's not true, I've grown to like it."

Before Malik had time to retort back, the door opened, a guard stepping through it and rubbing the back of his head, "Master Altair, sir. There is a man here to see you. He says he very much would like to speak with you. He's here from Spain, sir."

"Spain?" Altair raised his brows, and slowly got up, and walked to the door. "I'll see him."

Malik was just as curious as Altair. Did he make a friend there and forget about it? He did not say anything, but simply followed him out. They walked down to the gates, where a man in a large hat with a feather protruding from the side of it, looking around in awe. He had long wavy brown hair, and was white skinned like no one around these lands except the invading Templars.

"You asked for me?"Altair asked, the man jumping and removing his hat, reaching out his hand.

"Yes, yes. My name is Niccolo Polo. I am a humble man from Italy."

"I thought you were from Spain?" Altair raised a brow not bothering to shake his hand. He looked to the guard, who shrugged slightly, then back to the man. Niccolo frowned slightly, pulling his hand away, then grinned again, slipping his unshaken hand in his pocket.

"We traveled from Spain, yes. That is where we saw you. When we learned that you came back to Syria, well... We just had to speak with you, so we followed you."

"We?" Malik asked, raising a brow, asking the very question that Altair was wondering.

"Ah yes. My brother Maffeo is also with me. He is in town, speaking with the people, and um... trading."

Malik and Altair looked to each other, both curious and weary of this rather jumpy fellow. The older of the two raised and dropped his brows, before looking to Niccolo once again, "You followed me here to speak with me, but... About what?"

"The assassin's, of course," he stated, as if it was obvious. "I suppose it would be easier to speak with you inside?" he removed his hat once again, and fanned himself slightly, "It's much hotter here than it is where we come from."

"Niccolo!" they looked back at bearded man wearing some sort of bandana that raced up the slope to where they were. He leaned over, catching his breath a moment, then stood, "Oh! Is this Altair Ibn-La'ahad?"

"Yes, brother. This is my brother, Maffeo Polo."

"A pleasure!" he gasped, holding his hand out, but receiving no handshake, like his brother. He awkwardly put it down, and looked to Niccolo, who smiled wide at the two master assassins.

"Er. Follow me then," Altair stated, turning and heading up to the Master's study. Malik followed after the two brothers, not knowing if they could trust them, or even hold a decent conversation with them. They were odd. Were all Italians like this?

Altair sat down behind his desk, Malik standing next to him, the two brothers sitting in the two seats that two novice assassins brought up for them. The younger of the two masters also had a seat behind him, but did not make to sit down, rather being able to attack if the two were up to anything.

"So. What is so important about the assassins that you had to come all the way here to see me?"

"Shall I?" Niccolo asked Maffeo, who nodded his head. "First off, let me start by saying that we are both adventurers and merchants all in one." Malik had to hold back a scoff, as he leaned his weight against a book shelf, listening, "We've always been searching for something, but not quite knowing what. We've been across the world searching for it, till we heard of the assassins in Spain."

"You see, there are many Templars in our home in Italy. There are many people, like ourselves, that do not follow what they say. They spread from England like a pack of rabid dogs, and we grew tired of dealing with them," Maffeo stated.

"We decided to leave our country in search of a new home. A home away from the Templars."

"While being merchants on the side, selling goods where they are needed."

"While in Spain we heard of the uprising that was led by you, sir. We thought, why would we search for a new home, when we can simply take it back?"

"This is why we are here. We are seeking your guide, and instruction so we may go to our homeland and take it back from those pigs!" Niccolo stood, his fists clenched in enthusiasm.

Malik and Altair were quiet a moment, before Maffeo pulled his brother back down to sit. He coughed, and folded a leg over the other and looked to Altair once again, "Forgive us for our enthusiasm, but this is our homeland we speak of."

"If your homeland was taken over, wouldn't you want to take the control back?" he paused, and looked to Malik, who peered at him with a blank look. He wasn't sure what the man was thinking, or who he was for that matter. "This may be late, but.. Who are you?"

"Master Malik Al-Sayf. He holds as much control over the order as I do," Altair stated quickly. Malik blanched slightly, wishing Altair would have given him the opportunity to speak first. For one thing, he wouldn't have introduced himself as to give them the impression that he had some sort of power.

"Forgive me for asking," the man lowered his head once more. "Would you be able to help us, Master Altair?"

"You will start as Novice's and work your way up. When I feel you have learned enough to leave, I expect you to do so. But," he stood, and held his hands behind his back, peering at them from under his hood, "If you cause trouble I will not hesitate to send you away. I take pity on your people, but there is something I cannot tolerate, and that is when my time is wasted."

"We understand," the brothers stated, standing up, and bowing their heads, taking off their hats.

"Abdul, please take these two to a empty quarter in the dormitories. I hope you two will be comfortable."

A masked assassin walked over to them, bowing slightly to Altair, and leading the way, taking the two brothers to the dormitories. Malik was silent, watching as Altair reached up, removing his hood and rubbing at the back of his head. "Do you think we can trust them?"

Malik watched as Altair looked back at him and slowly nodded, "The seem young and foolish, but I do believe that they mean well for their country."

"I will still keep an eye on them."

"Do not worry yourself too much, Mal." He walked over to a box, and opened it, peering inside. He shifted some things around, then pulled out a sack, putting it on his desk. He closed the box, and then walked back to the desk, and opened the sack, spilling out some golden discs with holes in the center.

"What are those?" Malik questioned, walking to his side and picking one up. He peered at it, curiously, and turned it making sure to see every detail about it.

"I'm not sure. We found them in Mongolia. I was going to use them as a system of keys to the library."

This made the other even more suspicious than he already was, "And why would you need to lock up the library with such an odd sort of key? What do you plan on keeping inside it, Altair?" he narrowed his eyes.

The older man grinned and shrugged, "I suppose... When it comes time for me to pass, I plan to put the Apple inside. That way no one can get it."

"Why go through the trouble of calling it a library when that is your purpose for it?"

"My dear Malik. It is still going to be a Library. I plan to pass on the keys to Darim, Tazim, and you if you so desire. We will put only important scrolls inside. Ones we do not want to be found by others."

"And what brought on this elaborate plan?"

"It's just a silly desire of mine to have some secret location in the castle of our own."

"It's not such a secret when you are hiring a team of people to build it for you."

"You are insisting to ruin my fun, aren't you?" he pouted out his lip, scooping up the discs and putting them back in the bag.

"I'm just being realistic," he scowled, watching as the other tied up the bag and tossed it over his shoulder. "But I suppose it won't hurt for you to have your fun."

Altair smiled, like a child who was given a new toy. The younger of the two rolled his eyes and slipped his hand in his pocket, "Let's go get something to eat," he stated, heading down the stairs, the other in toe with him, still holding onto the sack.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>Hm, yes I do realize that this would make Niccolo and Maffeo a bit older later on, but the idea was too fun to pass up. Please remember that this is simply fan fiction, and although I am following (somewhat) the plot of the booksgames I will be changing quite a bit. But you should know this by now, I'd hope. Haha.

I apologize also for making the brothers seem a bit...derpy. I know they were a lot more calmer, and better thinkers than this, but it helps them grow more into characters later on, I assure you.

Also... I didn't notice this till I checked Fanfiction earlier today, but It's been a year already since I started this story. I'm kind of flabbergasted by this fact o_o

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>KamikazeKoiji<span>__:_ Thank you so much for the lengthy review. I love when reviewers go into detail on what they like, and what I need to work on. It helps a lot, so thank you :) I'm so very happy you decided to pick up the story again, and I am very pleased to hear I have not disappointed you with it. I do need to work on my wording, and will continue to work on that. And sometimes with words like "suppose" and "supposed" spell check doesn't catch, and when I am re-reading through I sometimes miss it too, so I do apologize for that Dx

_Random HeShe:_ I'm so very glad :D


	39. Chapter 39

The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 39

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><p>"Master Altair, would you like some tea?"<p>

"Master Altair, is it really necessary to cut off ones finger?"

"Master Altair, our master is treating us like children."

"Master Altair, would you tell us the tale of how you became the master of the assassins?"

"Master Altair-"

Malik stood and slammed his hand against the desk, "Enough!" his brows were furrowed in annoyance as he closed his eyes and let out a agitated breath. "Is this why you have come? To bother someone?"

The two brothers had been asking questions for hours, complaining about how they were unable to go in town to sell their goods, and worst of all (least for Malik) they would not stop talking. The two looked startled, but Altair wore a half-knowing smirk that told the Ex Rafiq that he was either anticipating the younger of the master's explosion, or found it amusing.

"M-Master Malik," Niccolo stuttered, blinking twice before he took off his hat and rubbed the back of his head, "I apologize if we had offended you."

"It wasn't that you offended me," Malik stated, standing upright and slipping his hand in his pocket, "I simply cannot concentrate on anything with the constant ramble that has ceased to come from your mouth. Every novice goes through what you are going through. My uncle, whom is your teacher, specifically told me the lessons he is putting you through, and we have both agreed of a right course to get the knowledge you need quickly so you may go back to your people."

"I think what Malik is trying to say is that you need to learn the things you are asking for yourself. Speak with the other Novices, and other Assassins. There is a lot more to our order than simply my old tales and battle scars," Altair stated, "There may come a time when we can sit down and talk of these tales, and converse and plot with one another, but until then we must be patient."

"There are skills and bits of knowledge that you wanted to acquire, we wish to help you, but cannot if you are constantly away from your teachings."

The brothers stared between the two, Maffeo a look of shock still, but the other brother seemed to understand, nodding his head. Niccolo stepped forward, and bowed, a hand over his heart, "I apologize. I will take my leave now and embrace the knowledge that you are supplying. I will wait patiently for the day we can speak as friends, and not as a student and a teacher," he turned his head to look at Malik, "And I also apologize to you especially, Master Malik. I know you do not trust my brother or myself, and I hope one day you will."

The two brothers took their leave, leaving the two Masters in silence. Altair took a seat once more, and looked to the other out of the corner of his eye, curiously, "You do not like them."

"I do not."

"Why? Because they are outsiders?"

"No. They act foolish. It doesn't matter where they came from, how they speak, or how they dress.. Their cause is noble, and I respect that they want to help their people, but I do not believe they are loyal. Once they have the skills, will they use them for good? Will they honor the brotherhood?"

"I do not know. All I know is that by doing this we might have more allies. We might be doing something that needs to be done for the good of the world. Isn't that we are doing daily? Teaching those who want to be taught? Learning from our mistakes and helping the people no matter where they come from and no matter what they believe in?"

Malik stared at him for a moment, unable to say anything or look away. Altair had grown wiser in the years that they were apart, much wiser. Malik had just grown restless and anxious. What had become of them to have the one who was never serious and had a smile whenever he looked at him while they were growing up turn into a real man who was knowledgeable and powerful. The other nodded softly, and looked down. He was right.

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><p>A year passed before Altair dared to send Niccolo on missions. Tazim was annoyed to find out he'd be helping the older men whenever they came to Damascus, but was relieved when he found that it was in fact Niccolo and not his brother Maffeo. The other brother was more interested in the story aspect of it all, and not the actual training. But it was in fact Niccolo that was beginning to win Altair over and in turn hear a few stories.<p>

Malik still did not trust them completely, so he stuck to staying away from the two, and teaching younger novices whenever he was asked to help out. Unfortunately for him, this meant that he was not spending as much time with Altair only seeing him at night when they were going to sleep, or occasionally during dinner.

Darim was growing fast, becoming more bold as time progressed. Being fourteen now, he was frequent to make mistakes, but was even quicker to fix them. Altair was far too busy to notice that his son was becoming very shifty at times, but Malik was not. He noticed almost immediately, and one day decided to follow him into town. It wasn't until he saw the boy pacing at a well that he had a hunch of what was going on. But it wasn't until a girl about his age came over with a bucket and smiled shyly that he knew for sure.

Darim Ibn-La'ahad was in love. He helped her fill the bucket, and sat on the rim, speaking to her a while before they embraced and she went on her way. The master assassin debated leaving him be, before his parental instincts took over, and he walked over and sat next to him.

"Hello Master Malik," he grinned, his lips twitched slightly as he attempted to hide his glee.

"When were you going to tell us about her?" he teased, the boy blushing slightly as he looked away.

"Her father does not approve."

"And why is that?"

"He says he does not want her hurt by the assassins. That we live too close to death and he does not want to see her hurt when I die," he let out a sigh, his smile being replaced with a confident smirk, "But I'm going to show him."

"What's her name?"

"Hanan Kalila. Please do not tell my father yet. I do not wish him to know if I fail..." his voice trailed off as he realized that his confidence might have been just a false hope.

"I promise I will not tell him, but I do have to say: I do not think you will fail. You are a bright young man, and full of promise. Her father will one day see that, and accept you."

The boy nodded, and grinned, "Thank you Master Malik. You are right. I will show him, there is no doubt in my mind." The boy stood and then looked up at the sky, "I should head back up to the fortress. I might miss dinner."

"Eat well," Malik patted his shoulder, and watched as he rushed back the way they came.

Malik stayed there a moment, allowing the darkness to fall on the land before he even moved. He wasn't very hungry (he never really was now a days), and figured he would just go to sleep as soon as he got to the fortress anyway. He stood, then before he took a step he found himself looking to a man who was walking. Normally someone heading to a house would not draw his attention, only it was Altair who was hooded and looking about suspiciously.

The Ex-Rafiq blinked, and followed him, pressing his ear to the door when he reached it. He shouldn't eavesdrop, it wasn't his business, but curiosity won him over before he even had an ounce of regret.

"So where were we?" he heard his lover's voice.

"You were speaking of Genghis Khan, and the battle of Mongolia." Was that Niccolo? Why was Altair talking to Niccolo about this?

"Of course. After the battle, we found these circular objects in Khan's quarters. At first I thought they were just artifacts he had stolen, but now... I don't think so. I was studying the Apple, and came across the same discs."

"What do you mean?"

"It was like... The Apple was speaking to me. It's strange I know, I'd never hear the end of it if I told Malik... But, I found out that they aren't just artifacts. You can store memories inside them. Stories to show someone later on in the future."

Malik took a step back. He would tell a stranger over him? He frowned. Sure, Malik would think of him as crazy for listening to a round object if he had not seen the power of the Apple already, but that was the problem. He _had_ seen it's power. He _knew _it was no ordinary object. Why could he tell this man his discoveries and not him?

He knew he should have thought things through, he knew he should have stayed in their room and asked him what else he had failed to tell him. But that was not what he did. He rushed up to their room and grabbed a small bag and shoved some clothes in it. He headed down again and to the food storage and grabbed a loaf of bread and few apples.

Malik made his way back out into the courtyard, and frowned as his wrist was grabbed and he was pulled back, "Look-" he was ready to lash out to Altair and paused, noticing the concerned look on his uncles face, "Oh, Majid. I thought you were Altair."

"Whatever he did, did you really think it was a good idea to just leave? Without telling anyone?" Malik didn't answer, and just looked down. The older man let out a sigh, and let his wrist go, and crossed his arms, "Where do you plan on going?"

"Damascus."

"To see Tazim?"

"For a while yes."

"What did he do?"

"He doesn't need me anymore," his voice cracked halfway through the sentence, "All I am doing is sitting around and reading... I need to find something to do... Something I can be helpful doing."

"Does this have anything to do with Altair's sudden fascination with Niccolo Polo?" he didn't respond. He didn't have to. The way his jaw tightened confirmed the question enough. "Just don't give up on him. Come back eventually, alright?"

Malik nodded his head, and turned heading out of the fortress. He was thankful he did not run into Altair on his way out of the city, and was even more thankful when the novice watching over the horses did not ask where he was going. Perhaps his uncle was right. He shouldn't give up on Altair, but right now Altair didn't need him. Maybe he could find someone who did?

Altair stretched as he headed towards their sleeping quarters. It was late in the night, and he was sure Malik was fast asleep. He nearly made it to the door, when he heard his name, turning to look at Majid who followed him from the stairs. The man looked conflicted, and most certainly troubled. "What's the matter, Majid?"

"Malik left a few hours ago."

"What?" Altair's brows furrowed, "What do you mean? Where did he go?"

"I do not know for sure," he lied, figuring that Malik would want it that way, "I only know that he will be back eventually."

"Why? Why did he leave?"

"To be honest, I'm sure it's because he felt replaced."

"Replaced? By who-"

"Don't give me that," Majid snapped. Altair blinked at his angry tone, never seeing the man mad before. "I've held my tongue when I've been cross with you in the past, but now my nephew left because you do not act like you trust him. You've given him so much responsibility and power over the order, yet you sneak out at night and tell that Italian man things that you should be only sharing with those you trust."

"I do trust him. Niccolo will be an important person some day to his people, he needs to know certain things."

"That may be, but it does not matter. It does not mean you have to leave him in the dark, Altair. And when he comes back, you need to show him you care."

"I do care..."

"Then show it. Do not just sit there and tell me. Act on it. And I do not just mean by sleeping with him and kiss him. Loving someone means more than just that."

Altair blushed very slightly at the last statement, and stayed silent. He watched as the older man turned in a huff and walked away. So Malik was gone? He opened the door and looked inside, frowning at the two empty beds. "He didn't even give me a chance to say anything..." he whispered.

He couldn't bring himself to go inside. He just stood there and stared, wishing that Malik would come up behind him and tell him he's a novice for thinking he would really leave him. He felt someone walk behind him, and turned quickly, seeing his son, peering up at him curiously.

"Master Altair Baba? Are you alright?"

Altair shook his head, "I've done something stupid, Darim..." the teen stepped forward and looked up at him, barely having to turn his head, being almost as tall as him now. "Malik is gone because of me."

"Gone? Why? I just saw him not too long ago."

"I made a mistake. I made him feel like I did not trust him..." his brows furrowed in frustration. "Do you know where he could have gone?"

"Possibly to Tazim? It's been a while since we've seen him."

Altair nodded his head. If he left now he might be able to catch up. He turned and rushed out of the tower. He headed toward the library first, and searched the rows till he spotted Rauf, who was sitting down in a chair, his crutch resting next to him, reading a scroll.

"Rauf," he breathed out, the other blinking and looking up at him.

"Master Altair? What are you doing at this late hour?"

"Can you, when you see him, tell Majid to watch over the brothers for a few days? There is something I need to do."

"Of course, but, what about Malik?"

"He is a part of what I need to do."

Without another word, the master assassin turned, and left. He made his way to the stables, taking his favorite horse, and immediately setting off. It was in the middle of the night, and he was not sure of when Malik had left, but he was positive that he needed to catch up to him. He needed to apologize and find out from him what exactly he did wrong.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>After the next chapter there's going to be a huge time lapse. I'm not going to sit here and draw out the story more than it should be, and our lovely assassins have been sitting around doing nothing for far too long. Possibly only 2 to 3 chapters left, and since the next chapter is chapter 40 I honestly think it's long overdue.<p>

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>P1zz4eater29<span>_: I know the feeling xD I hate having to log in every three days. Drives me nuts. I am glad to hear you like the story that much :D Thank you so much for the compliment :)

_KamikazeKoiji:_ I'm glad. I was a little worried that the last chapter was a little too dull. I wish there was more availiblity to show how the two brothers grow more than I have, but every time I did a scene with them it would turn out too prolonged and would need far too much detail to keep anyone interested x.x;


	40. Chapter 40

**The Story of a Rafiq**

**Chapter 40**

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><p>Altair was sure that he had just missed Malik every time he stopped at a resting point. There was always a freshly extinguished fire, which fueled him to keep going the first time he came up to it, but by the time he got to the third he knew he had to rest. The whole while he traveled he kept wondering what he did wrong. He knew it had to be the fact that they were distanced the past few months, but he did not think that was a reason that his lover would up and leave without telling him goodbye.<p>

But then he had to wonder: Did Malik even go to Damascus? It was just a theory, and if he had would Tazim allow the assassin to see him? He had more loyalty to his father than the leader of the Creed. He poked at a nearly ashen stick in the fire as he chewed on a knuckle of his left index finger. He'd just have to wait and see. He was a day away from Damascus, or less. He'd find out soon.

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><p>Malik wandered around the city, letting out a shaky sigh. It had been a while since he visited the city, and to his dismay it looked even bigger than before. Where would he find his son? Would he even be awake? Dawn had just hit when he had arrived to the city walls, the city just about waking as the people started to leave their homes. He followed a group, heading towards the city's center, and was surprised to see as many people as he did. They all had their little clicks, talking away and gossiping in the early morning.<p>

His eyes trailed to every group, searching for any sign of Tazim. Of course, it was not going to be that easy. The young adult was no where in the center, and the older assassin had no way of knowing if he ever would be. Should he ask if anyone knew him? Had the boy any friends that would know his whereabouts? The Ex-Rafiq was quickly pulled from his thoughts as he felt someone collide into his back. He nearly fell over, but was quick on his feet only managing to skid forward and regain his balance.

He turned to scowl at the person, and blinked as a young woman gasped, putting her hands over her mouth and shaking her head, "I am so sorry!" her accent was unusual, as was her pale white skin and blonde hair. "I did not mean to run into you like that."

"I apologize for my sister's clumsiness," another spoke, a boy coming up from behind her, grinning as if he had something to do with it. It was very apparent that the two were siblings with their matching facial features and hair color. About the only difference between them (other than the fact that one was a man and the other a woman) was their eye colors.

The girl turned to snap at her brother, when Malik held up his hand, "It's alright. Perhaps you can help me instead of fighting?" he chortled, the two looking at him curiously, "Do you perhaps know a Tazim Al-Sayf? Or know of where I can find him?"

"You are looking for Tazim?" the man asked, the girl smiling slightly.

"Yes, do you know him?"

"Ellie knows him exceptionally well, don't you sister?" the man asked, smirking as her cheeks turned red.

"I can take you to him," Ellie stated, taking Malik's arm and pulling him away from her brother. They walked a moment, before she let him go, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Are you, by any chance, his father?"

"Indeed, I am."

"You two resemble each other a lot, and he speaks of you often."

"And I am assuming the boy back there is your brother?"

"My twin, yes. His name is Keagan."

"May I ask where you are originally from?"

"My father brought us here when we were eight. Originally we are from a British colony, though I am not too certain of which." It explained her accent and to why she spoke their language so well.

Malik was about to ask about her and Tazim's relationship, when she stopped in front of a door and knocked, "Tazim, are you home?" she called, taking a step back.

A moment passed when the door opened, Tazim stepping outside, trying to pull his shirt over his head, "Good morning Ellie," he paused his eyes landing on the master assassin.

"Malik Baba!" he gasped, rushing forward without a seconds notice and embracing him. "What in Allah's name are you doing here?"

"Was in the area... Decided to say hello," he stated, smirking slightly, the other looking at him knowingly.

"I'll leave you two to catch up. I'll make Lunch for you later," the girl smiled, waving slightly as she stepped back and rushed away.

Malik's smirk widened as Tazim smiled, waving back, then looked to his father, "What?"

"Oh nothing," he slipped his hand in his pocket.

"It's not what it looks like," he argued.

"Oh, of course not. I never said anything."

"I know you, Baba. There is never just nothing."

"Alright then. Tell me the truth."

"If you must know... Yes, I have fallen in love with her."

The Ex Rafiq smiled, watching as his son headed into the house, holding the door open for him. He followed him, and looked around the front room of the small house, and watched as the other walked over to a basket of fruit, and held out a pear to him, "Thank you," Malik took the pear, and sat down next to him in a chair as Tazim bit into an apple.

The younger man chewed, then swallowed, then crossed his arm over his chest, keeping the other up so he could still eat his fruit, "So. Why are you here, Baba?"

"I suppose I am just becoming an old man that wishes to feel useful."

"What do you mean?" Tazim tilted his head to the side.

"Altair is busy, Darim is off trying to prove to a young lady's father that he will make a fine partner for her-"

"Darim? Really?" he grinned, "It's amazing to think that someone who use to be so small is trying to do something so big."

"He's fourteen. Not quite a man, but definitely not a child. He's an excellent archer," he smiled, "Never misses a mark. And stealthy like his father."

"And how is Master Altair? I do not get much of a read on his emotions through our notes, and that Niccolo fellow does not say much other than praise the past of which I already know." He watched as Malik tensed at the mention of the other man. "Did... Niccolo do something, Baba?"

Malik was hesitant, he did not come to see his son and complain like a child. Plus, it was not Niccolo or Maffeo's fault that he was feeling this way. He had no real right to complain about the brothers. "They have rendered me useless is all," he stated, finally, after choosing his words.

"When ever have you been useless? From what I hear and from what I have seen with my own eyes you have never been useless a day in your life."

"I just need some time away I suppose..." he rubbed the un-bitten pear with his thumb as he stared down at it. The young man ate at his apple, watching him curiously, but did not say anything. The core was long since reached as they sat there in silence, listening to the sounds coming from outside the house.

The city reminded Malik of when he lived in Jerusalem. Each day would start much like this one. All the noises from around the city, all the people laughing, conversing, and getting ready for work. There was a knock on the door, Malik's eyes shifting over to it as Tazim stood and walked over. He opened it slightly, and blinked as Altair barged in without a single word.

"Master Altair," Tazim argued, pushing back on his shoulders, the higher ranked assassin not ever looking away, his eyes trained on his lover.

"You have a lot of visitors today, eh Tazim?" Keagan joked, leaning against the door frame.

Tazim bit his lip, looking back and forth between his master and his father. Finally, he let out a sigh, and stepped out of the way, and over to the door, "Just don't wreck my house," he stated, just in case, and pushed the other man out as he closed the door behind him.

"Why did you leave?" Altair asked, his voice overlapping with Malik's question "What do you want?" that he asked at the same time.

"Why did you leave?" Altair repeated, crossing his arms.

"Why didn't you tell me about the discs?" Malik's eyes narrowed.

"I was going to tell you-"

"So you tell a stranger before me? Do you not trust me anymore Altair?"

"What are you talking about? I trust you more than I trust myself!"

"You do not talk to me anymore. You do not act as if you trust me. What did I do Altair?"

"Malik, calm down," Altair raised his hands, the Ex Rafiq standing and stamping his foot slightly.

"I am calm! Just angry. You expect me to be happy about being replaced by that flamboyant Italian man and his frivolous brother?" he scoffed looking off to the side, Altair blinking. A moment passed before the older assassin had to cover his mouth as he began to laugh. Malik couldn't believe his ears. His head shot up, his eyes wide as his mouth parted to gape at the other.

"I'm...I'm sorry..." Altair choked, grabbing a hold of the side of the door frame to keep upright, "It's just... You are jealous of them?" he snorted again, covering his mouth once again, the other glaring.

"I do not see what is so funny Altair."

"It's not funny, it's just... Ridiculous."

"I do not see what's so ridiculous," he crossed his arms, glaring at nothing in particular now.

"You are jealous of them. I tell them stories because I plan to send them off and do my bidding while I sit around and spend the rest of my days with you at my side. Yet I had to chase you all the way to Damascus just to get you to admit your jealous?"

"You can stop repeating yourself. Yes, I'm jealous. Yes, I'm afraid that I'm useless. Yes-" he paused and looked to him, curiously, "What do you mean you plan to send them off to do your bidding? What bidding?"

"The circle discs Malik... There's something about them... I'm going to use them as keys for the library like I had mentioned before, and send them off with Niccolo and Maffeo when they travel back to Italy. That will...keep them safe."

Altair's expression changed drastically. He went from smiling and happy, to suddenly serious. The Ex-Rafiq knew there was something that he wasn't telling him. He stepped forward, placing a hand against his cheek and turned his head to look at him. "And why do you need keys for a library?"

Altair stared a moment, then looked down, "Eventually I will tell you. I promise that I will not tell anyone other than you. You have my word." The other allowed his arm to drop, and blinked as the door suddenly opened, Tazim rushing inside, looking a mixture of worry and depression.

"What's the matter, son?" Malik asked, walking past the older assassin, the youngest looking down as he held a piece of paper in his hand. The Ex-Rafiq took it, and looked down at the words. He felt his brain go blank, his whole body felt numb as he gulped back his words, the other assassin taking the paper from his hand and reading it as well.

'_Tazim, Master Majid has passed away. If you see Master Malik or Master Altair send them home immediately._'

The older assassin reached out, grabbing Malik's shoulders before he fell down. The man who raised him and Kadar was dead. He left, only to lose one that was so close to him. He looked back at Altair, who looked more worried than anything else, tears falling from his eyes as he stared. "Majid... My Uncle... He..."

"We need to go home, Mal... I know it's hard but we need to," he looked back at Tazim, who was also choking back on his tears, "You will come with us?"

"Of course..." the young man put his hand to Malik's shoulder, gently leading his father from his house. Altair followed, and took his hand as Tazim frowned, "I will get some food and some water, and inform Ellie and Keagan and meet you at the stables."

Altair nodded, and took his time leading Malik out of the city, and to the stables. He was still crying, but not a single sob left his throat. He seemed numb, and unable to comprehend what really was going on. The man was getting older, but he wasn't _that_ old. He never would have guessed it was growing closer to his time.

They mounted their horses, Malik taking a bit longer to get on top of his in his state, and road off, not stopping until nightfall. That was when it hit the younger of the two masters. He covered his face with his hand as his shoulders lurched forward, a loud grief stricken sob emitted from his throat, causing the other two to stare alarmed at first. It was like a tidal wave of emotion. He clung to the tips of his hair with his fingers as he sobbed into his wrist.

Altair moved over, engulfing him in a embrace, looking over to Tazim, who only looked on sadly. Malik was there when he lost his own father, and now that the last father figure this man had was gone, he certainly was going to be there for him. He wasn't going to say anything, there was no words that could comfort him now. He simply lent him his shoulder to cry on, and was there for him.

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><p>The three made it home faster than they thought. It took a few days, but with all the rest stops they took, they were sure it would take longer. They made their way up the hill, pausing as Darim rushed through the gates and clung to his father's robes as he hugged him, then looked to Malik, and gave him a hug as well, before Tazim took his shoulder and allowed the two master assassins to head into the fortress.<p>

The assassins, both novice and master, old and young, looked sadly upon the two. They made their way to the top, where Rauf stood, leaning against his crutch, looking just as grief stricken as the others. "Did he die peacefully?" Malik whispered, speaking the first time since reading the news.

"Yes. Darim found him in his quarters. He seems to have passed in his sleep."

Tazim bit his lip and looked down at the teenager, who nodded and lowered his head, "He lived a good life," Altair whispered, looking to Malik, who nodded, trying his hardest not to cry. "He missed Tamir. He may not have shown it, but he was ready to see him again."

Malik blinked. He had not thought of it that way before. He nodded his head and lightly smiled, "I wish to rest," he stated softly, the other nodding and watching him head to the dormitories.

"We plan to burn his body tonight," Rauf stated, "Most of the assassins whom are out on missions are trying to get home to see him off."

Altair nodded his head, patted his friend's shoulder, then turned and followed Malik. He made sure to stay at a good length away from him, giving him his distance, but entering the room after him, and watching him lay on his bed. He stepped forward, and sat down next to the bed, the younger reaching out and taking his hand in his.

"I will miss him."

"As will I."

"I wish I had known. I would never have left."

"You could not have known. No one could have. Maybe Majid knew it was his time, but it was his right to say something or not. He would not want us to dwell on his death." Malik nodded his head, and lifted Altair's hand, kissing it lightly, and closing his eyes. He stayed that way for a while, keeping his lips against his skin, "They are sending him off later tonight. Sleep for now, I will wake you when it's time."

Malik nodded once again, opening his eyes as Altair stood, leaning over and giving him a soft peck on the lips, "I love you."

Altair smiled very lightly, "I love you too."

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>I swear this chapter wrote it's self. I started it, then the next thing I knew it was 2:30 in the morning and I was already 5 pages in.<p>

Sorry also for the random British Twins. I'm not saying Tazim ends up with Ellie, and not as well. In the end that's your guy's choice. They aren't showing up anymore than they have, and have served their purpose. If you want to ship the two, feel free. If not then well...Tazim ended up with some other girl in your mind xD.

Also, this chapter was submitted later than intended because... I got side tracked. I started working on the epilogue. I had a sudden burst of inspiration that I wanted to jot down and ended up writing the whole thing in one sitting x.x.

Hope you guys like it, and remember, time lapse in the next chapter. A huge one.

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>amisunderstoodlifesandy<span>_: I'm sorry, all good things must come to end eventually Dx And I've been working on this for a year. I really do need to move on with it (more so I don't run out of ideas with Malik and Altair in general Dx) Hope you understand!

_eliina_: My sentiments exactly. When I realized what chapter I was having to write next my reaction was more along the lines of: 40? Good god o_o Where did the time go? And don't worry, Darim will be fine :3 He's tough like his father, but adorable in his own way xD

_Guest_: -hands you next chapter- Here you are~ Hope it was good~


	41. Chapter 41

**The Story of a Rafiq**

**Chapter 41**

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><p>Years passed on. The assassins continued to thrive in numbers across the world, and continued to fight back as the Templar's became more and more of a force. Malik would never tell his lover his true thoughts on the matter, but he found the threat more terrifying every battle they fought. Life was changing quickly. Altair took to his study, and would spend hours and hours at a time staring at the Apple. The Ex-Rafiq even saw him going as far as to speak to it. It worried him some, but again, he would never voice his opinion.<p>

Eventually, Tazim had moved back to Masyaf as he thought he would. He had two children: a boy named Majid after his great uncle, and a girl named Rana. His wife passed away while giving birth to Rana, and in his despair he moved back to live with the assassins. Majid was five, and Rana one by the time they moved back. The boy was shy, but very spirited, and fought mostly with ranged weapons learning to fight with a cross bow and a bow and arrow. Of course, since he was so young, Tazim did not see it fit for him to have a weapon of his own.

Darim had eventually proven his worth to Hanan's father, and in his seventeenth year was blessed enough to marry her. He now was the father of two sons Zafar and Sati. They had a daughter, but within the year of her birth she passed away due to an illness. Hanan was never the same after the death of the girl, but forced a smile on her face whenever Darim or the two boys were around. Her husband, however, was not fooled, and drew distant from her, unable to really communicate with her.

When Tazim had returned, it brought joy to more than just Malik to have his son back. Although Darim would never want to hurt Hanan, the older man's return brought back hidden feelings that he refused to act on, in turn making him seem bitter towards the woman. Zafar, being only a year older than Majid, immediately took it upon himself to lead the other, and told Altair that he wanted him as a partner. Feeling relieved that the other boy took it upon himself to help the other, he agreed.

Niccolo and Maffeo Polo had moved on ten years after they joined together with the brotherhood. They left for Italy in an attempt to teach the men there how to fight back, and still finding their original motivation for wanting to help their people. It was going to be a tedious task, but the two held their heads high and marched onward, occasionally sending letters to Altair telling him of the minor successes they were having. They did however, leave out the fact that they never actually made it to Italy, but were currently on a hunt for the missing key artifacts they lost only a year after they were given them.

The brotherhood was never the same, despite the fact that they still had masters teaching the novices. The amount of people joining their ranks in the area began to diminish, the people who once fought so hard to stay put for tradition moved away and took their teachings away to other lands and other countries to help or be with the creed where they needed more support. It was sad to see their once great fortress all but a memory. The city below had also taken a toll. They no longer felt safe in the watchful eyes of the assassins. All the battles; All the raids; Everything that had happened over the years forced the people move out and seek out new lives and homes.

With the lack of people that they once were use to, it was easy for an assassin to find himself alone and sometimes lonesome. They found themselves wandering, and sometimes at the edge of the castle or deep underground, only to have to find their way back for some company. The halls were filled with ghosts of those who had passed on, and shadows that appeared only as a bad dream that made their home a tomb for the past.

Still, there were many who remained. Rauf stayed, although he was forced to stick to being a teacher, and a scholar due to his two missing limbs. Malik and Altair, of course, stayed. Tazim was not about to leave his father, and the same went for Darim, who would be lying if loyalty was his only reason for staying. Many other assassins who were raised and molded with the Creed also stayed, even while knowing they would eventually have to leave too. It was a depressing topic, one that many chose to keep to themselves.

Darim was one of them who tended to keep his mouth shut, and his opinions to himself. It wasn't that he did not have anyone with him that would listen, it was more the fact that he felt his thoughts foolish and did not want to burden his father, Malik, or anyone else. He was tired, as he usually was when he knew he had to face Hanan in a matter of hours. The sky was darkening, and he knew he should see her, but did not want to face her mask of a grin, and did not feel he was able to hold back any angry feelings he knew he had buried deep down.

He stood at the base of the cliff in the garden, staring outward to the land and making sure to keep his mind clear. How was he suppose to live on when his own wife had seemingly gone off the edge? He blinked as he felt a hand on his shoulder, and smiled lightly at Tazim. The older man gestured for him to sit down with him, their feet dangling off the edge as they sat in silence for a moment.

"What's the matter?"

"It's nothing," the younger lied, making the other smirk and take a hold of his hand.

"I know you better than that Darim."

"I do not know what to do anymore," he admitted, letting out a sigh as he let his head drop. "Hanan is sad of the fact that we lost our daughter. I am sad as well, but she does not seem to want to live on. She will smile to others, but when we are sleeping, she cries. I do not know why, but after a while I've started to hate her for it. It has been over a year, Tazim."

"People grieve differently. She is choosing to let grief take over... It may even eventually kill her because of it."

Darim hesitated a moment, before giving the other's hand a light squeeze, "Perhaps a better man would fight on to make her see her worth... But alas I am not a good man. I have fought all I can bare. I cannot fight anymore."

"You have done all you can, brother. If she chooses to live life that way then that is her choice. Her negative choice does not make you a bad man. The fact that you have fought at all is all the proof in the world."

"Zafar and Sati need more than a mother that cannot give them a real smile and real love..." he pulled his hand away, scowling as he slumped forward slightly, hugging himself. "I hate her for not showing them the love they deserve."

"They are lucky to have a father like you, who cares enough about them to make up for the mother's love," Tazim stated, reaching out and grabbing his face in his hands, making him turn, "I've watched you grow from the small boy you were, to the man you are now. I am proud to be your friend, and I am proud that you are here with us. You too should be proud of yourself."

Darim couldn't help it. It was a perfect time for him to act, even if he knew he should not. His body reacted on it's own, making him lean forward, their lips crushing together. It lasted a second, before he pulled back, his eyes widening, "Tazim, I'm so sorry!" he gasped out, covering his mouth as he turned away. The other blinked, shocked, and stared at him for a moment, before he grinned and looked away, "Why are you smiling?"

"In my dreams I was always the one to kiss you. It was the opposite in this case, and it relieves me as well as something else..."

"Excuse me?" his eyes widened more, his turn to be shocked.

Tazim shrugged, and looked back at the younger man, before leaning forward, kissing his lips once, twice, then forcefully pushed him back slightly, kissing him deeply as he wrapped his arms around him. Their lips curved together in a way that the two of them only dreamed. Their tongues greeted each other as they began to slide together, dancing and exploring as their hands clung to their robes.

It all happened so quickly, before Tazim pulled back, resting his head against Darim's the other panting very slightly, his cheeks red, "I am sorry for this," the older whispered, making the other shake his head, "I will not be the one to further break your wife's heart."

For a short moment, all that Darim had dreamed was coming to a reality. That dream was shattered almost instantly, making him frown as he looked to him. He gulped lightly, and nodded his head, looking back down. His life had already been chosen. If he wanted to make something work with Tazim, he should have thought about it beforehand. Before he ever made the first moves on Hanan. Before he asked her father for her to marry him. But he was just a boy, how would he have ever known any of this could happen?

"I should go home to Hanan," Darim whispered, standing and starting for the exit.

"Darim!" Tazim stood, biting his lip as he watched the other turn to him, "I am sorry it has to be this way. I will wait for you. Whatever you decide I will stand by it." Darim nodded, and turned once more, leaving the other to the silence of the darkening night.

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><p>Malik woke with a start in the middle of the night, groaning lightly as he laid back down, and ran a hand over his face. He was having a dream where all he could find himself able to do is run. He'd run after his son till he'd disappear, and then Altair would pass him. He'd continue to run, another loved one taking the other's place till he was halted with blazing orange eyes that forced him from his sleep. It took him a moment to calm himself, but as soon as he did he realized something was missing. He felt the bed, and frowned at now knowing Altair had not made it back to their room. He had holed himself up in his study, talking to the Apple, and staring into it for hours, but he never allowed himself to miss a chance to sleep and hold Malik as they dreamed.<p>

The two were only in their fifties, and he knew that they were both old men, but he did not think the man to be old enough to have died. It worried him that he would miss their only time together. He pulled his robes on lazily before leaving the room, and yawning as he made his way to the study. He wondered how close it was to dawn, but did not dwell on it as he made his way up the stairs and smiled at the sight.

Altair sat, his cheek pressed against his knuckles as he dreamed. A bit of a beard was forming, but in his aging years it was beginning to suit him. Not like Malik. He would never dare to grow a beard, even with the idea of symbolism behind it. He was just fine with his goatee, and would continue to sport it till the end of his days. He walked forward, and knelt down into a squat, peering up at him. He seemed so young and innocent when he slept, and the younger man felt the need to stare at him.

"I suppose I will forgive you for tonight," he cooed, standing up slowly, and looking at the Apple that rested on the edge of his robes, ready to fall to the ground at any movement. '_I suppose Altair would not like it if you fell and cracked, would he?_' he thought, wondering for a moment if he should just let it drop. Finally, he sighed, and shook his head before he reached out and took the Apple, freezing as the world around him became dark, and Altair vanished.

"What the-?" he blinked, looking to the side, a woman wearing a white gowned, and cleavage exposing chest stood near him, grinning slightly. "Who are you?" he questioned, avoiding her gaze as he looked up at her odd hat.

"My name is Minerva. I've been longing to speak to you, Malik Al-Sayf."

"What is this place? How did I get here?" he paused, "How do you know my name?"

"Altair speaks often about you, and very highly. Since you have helped him through the years, I have to thank you. You have made this process of life go on so much less difficult than I originally anticipated."

"I do not understand," he whispered, frowning, "Do you live inside this," he held the Apple up, "This thing?"

"The Apple of Eden is not a vessel, but a tool. One that Altair has used very well. It will play a large part in the years to come," she waved her hand, faded images of men in different styled assassins robes stood all around them. Ezio, Desmond, Connor, Altair, Altair's his father Umar, Kadar, Majid, Tamir, and even Faheem, his own father stood in among the crowd, their shadowy bodies showing they were not real.

"Are all of these men and women... Assassins?"

"Of the future, of the past and of the present. All because of what you and Altair have done. The future itself rested on the shoulders of Altair, and his lineage. It's amazing, is it not? That such a line has such an important role on the world?"

"I still do not understand," Malik shook his head.

"And you will not have to. Just know that you have helped the world proceed to something much bigger. You have helped the world go towards it's destiny, and I thank you personally. Goodbye Malik Al-Sayf. Watch over Altair, and make sure you both continue on and fulfill your lives."

Malik opened his mouth to ask something, but the world returned to as it was before. He blinked, and looked to where Altair was sitting, and watched as the man stared up at him knowingly.

"You spoke to her, didn't you?"

"Who is she?"

"I still do not know for sure. All I know is what she tells me."

"I understand why you speak to it now, and stare at it..." Malik held it out, letting the other take it back, and rubbed the back of his head, "I was worried before... But no more."

Altair nodded, and stood, setting the Apple down on the table, and stared at it for a moment, "I'm to hide it eventually," he stated, softly. "Until a great assassin in the future will take it and use it for the good of humanity."

"And how do you plan to hide it?"

Altair hesitated for a moment, then smiled, looking up, "I'll figure it out."

"There is no plan already?"

"There will be, eventually."

Malik rolled his eyes, and turned, walking to the stairs, "Come to bed, will you? It's late."

Altair nodded and watched as Malik left. His eyes trailed down to the Apple once again, his eyes focused on it once more, "It will be a while... But I do know of where to put you. Malik cannot know. He will try to stop me," he stated to the object, and caressed it lightly before taking it in hand, and following his lover.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>This chapter was hard to do. I had three different versions typed up, and eventually I had to go with this one to really explain all that happened. I could go into more detail than what I did, but I did not want an elaborate ending that has every twist and turn, but a subtle one that can let your mind wander.<p>

The third version was more focused on Darim and Tazim, but since it was a story that is mostly focused on Malik I did not think it fit. The first version immediately jumped into topics that would have made the story continue on, and although I know many of you would love to see that happen I know it would be too hard in the end to keep stretching the story on x.x

In the end I chose this one: the second version. I added a tiny bit of the third version (the scene with Tazim and Darim), but other than that was strictly to the original outline of the second version.

I do also know that Malik more than likely would not see Minerva, but hey, it wasn't too revealing to the man, and it was nice of her to say thank you. =D; Plus it makes it fit with the epilogue a bit more x.x

Really hope you liked this ending chapter, and read on for the epilogue that I am pretty happy with.

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><p><strong>Review Responses:<strong>

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><p><em><span>Ookamikuro<span>_: I suppose this does need a bit of an explanation, doesn't it? More or less Majid had different feelings religion wise. Most of the assassins knew about it, but never pressed it since he was never really open about it. Because it was his wish to be cremated they obliged even if they felt it was wrong themselves. It was more of a respect ordeal than anything else. I never went into it when Tamir died, but he too was cremated. I hope this explains some.

_P1zz4eater29_: I hope this chapter pleases you then! LOL. I had not read your review till after I had written the kiss scene, so I found it a bit ironic when I did xD. I do love the two of them, and would push them together more than I did if not for the fact that Desmond needed a bloodline (one of the rules I kept in my mind that I needed even if it is fanfiction)

_amisunderstoodlifesandy_: Thank you so much! It means a lot to hear that :3

_Random HeShe_: Seriously. When I started this chapter I kept thinking to myself "This is it. This is the end" and had to keep pausing during the writing of the different versions just because I kept thinking it. It made me a bit more emotional than I thought it would xD


	42. Epilogue

**The Story of a Rafiq**

**Epilogue**

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><p>Ezio walked forward stepping inside a room that had not been entered in many years. The first thing he saw was darkness, and then when his eyes adjusted to the light helped by his torch he saw him. Altair, the man he had been living through when he relived his memories. The man that led him to this point. He stepped inside further, his throat choking up slightly as he covered his mouth, staring at the man who held the last and final key that glowed brightly in his grasp. The room was full of ancient bookshelves, of which hardly had anything on them at all other than cobwebs and ages of dust.<p>

"No books... No wisdom..." the old assassin stated, looking down at the mentor, "Just you, fratello mio." He leaned down, peering up at the man, "Requiescat in pace, Altair," he whispered, leaning forward and taking the last disc in his hand, his surroundings changed to listening to the sound of another voice, before he could see again.

"You have seen to my books?" an old Altair asked, looking to Darim a container containing the apple in hand.

"Yes. Some we sent with the Polos. The rest will go with me to Alexandria," the middle aged man answered, looking troubled.

"Good, very good," Altair stated, smiling very slightly.

"Father, I do not understand..." he trailed off slightly, his brows furrowed, "Why did you build a library if you did not intend to keep your books?"

"You should go. Collect Malik, Tazim, your families and leave quickly. Masyaf must be empty..." he stated.

"I see," a sudden realization came across Darim's face, "This is not a library at all. It is a vault."

"It must stay hidden, Darim. Far from eager hands," he looked down at the container in his hand, then to his son again,"At least until it has passed on the secret it contains."

Darim stepped forward, not catching his fathers glimpse down at his hands, or taking it at anything worth noting, "What secret?"

"Go, son. Go be with your family, and live well."

Darim walked forward, hugging his father for the last time. The boy who was once emotional, and crying because of seeing his father for the first time had to hold back his tears this time. He needed to be strong. He had to, "All that is good in me, began with you, father."

"And Malik," the older man stated, pulling back lightly, looking almost torn. "Take care of him. See that he passes well. See that he knows... I love him."

Darim nodded, his eyes glazing over as his father stepped backwards, hand pressing to the side of the doors. The two stared at each other a moment, the door lowering down, till Darim turned, walking away, unable to hide his tears any longer.

Altair made his way down the passage that Ezio had just walked down. He extinguished the lights as if he was putting out the fires that the still alive assassin had just lit. His steps became heavy as it became harder and harder to walk forward. He finally made it into the main room, looking at the empty book shelves and chairs standing tall. He stepped past a single chair in the middle, and walking to a vault in the back.

Ezo frowned. That was it? He looked around Altair's body and tilted his head. Where was the Apple? He stood upright, and looked about curiously, the disc still in his hand as he looked about the empty room. And then something else caught his eye. He paused from where he stood and looked off to the side, seeing another skeleton. But Altair had not come with anyone else. Did this person enter after? But how?

He stepped closer, bending down and staring at the clothes a moment, before his brows furrowed. He knew those robes. He knew them from seeing the things Altair wanted him to see, "Malik," he stated softly, then looked over in the direction the skeleton was staring at seeing the remains of the once great assassin, "You stayed with him until the very end... But how?"

He reached out and touched his shoulder, opening his mouth to say something else, but pausing. The key lit up, he glanced down it, and suddenly he was in another scene looking around from a pillar at Altair and Darim walking.

"If you are asked, say that I sent the apple away," Altair stated, leaning against his son as they moved towards the passage to the library. Malik had stopped to watch them long ago, curious as to what they were up to. They did not see him, he was hidden too well behind the pillar as they slowly made their way down the passage, "Tell them I sent it to Cyprus, or Cipango, or that I dropped it into the sea. Tell them anything to keep men away from this place. This Apple must not be found, not until the time is right."

What did that mean? The Library? Was Altair putting it there for safe keeping like he said he eventually would do? He made sure to stay hidden, rushing down the hall as quickly as his legs would take him. He was not quick in his old age, but certainly was faster than Altair. He rushed inside, making sure not to be seen as he made his way down the Library hall and stopped at the mouth of the room. Where had all the books gone? The maps? Everything? He heard footsteps and began to look about frantically. He saw a spot in a corner and hid, walking to the spot that Ezio had found his body in.

He pressed against one of the shelves, and watched as Altair was staggering forward, making his way to the back. He hesitated for a moment, before placing the apple down in it's place on a pedestal in the very back. He pressed against a stone, two stone slabs pushing together to make a wall that was easily mistaken for just another plain part of the room. He stared at the assassin symbol a moment, before turning, and making his way to a single chair in the middle. The younger of the two looked as if he wanted to say something, but just continued to watch, not wanting to seem like he was spying or anything.

It was hard for him to watch, watching as the man felt the back of the chair, and felt his way till he sat roughly in the object. He slowly reached into his pocket, and pulled out a single glowing disc, that Malik had known that he had kept after he gave the others to Niccolo and Maffeo. He stared at it almost fondly, before he set it in his lap, his head falling limp. Everything was still. The Ex-Rafiq was slow, but finally stepped forward, looking to the dark hallway, frowning, then to Altair. He looked confused for a moment, before walking over to the other. He spoke his name twice, putting his hand to his shoulder, and shook. But he was gone. He no longer breathed.

He fell to his knees, letting out a sob as he clutched his heart. "You told me you'd tell me one day..." he stated through erratic gasps of breath. "And this is it? You built this as a tomb? And for what?" He clutched his front harder as he staggered back to his hiding place, thumping his back against the wall and slowly sliding down. He looked to be in pain, staring at the dead man in the center of the room. Tears fell from his eyes as he stared, and slowly, his hand dropped from his chest to rest gently on his leg, "I will see you again soon my friend... my brother... my l... my lover," he whispered out, his eyes going still as he breathed out his last breath.

Ezio stared as the scene faded away. He felt his own chest, and felt a single tear roll from his eyes. They died together. They lived their lives out, they loved, they cared, they fought for the cause that he, himself was still fighting, but still they had each other. He walked to Altair again, and smiled lightly, looking between the two of them "The brotherhood will still be strong, my mentors. We will continue to fight," he stated confidently.

He looked back at the wall that held the Assassin Symbol on it, and the Apple behind it. He stood as confidently as he could muster, and nodded once, "Nothing is true; Everything is permitted," he whispered softly.

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

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><p>So yeah, I altered Revelations to suit my needs for the ending. I hope you guys enjoyed it, I certainly felt the ending needed to end there with Ezio even though the story had nothing to do with him, and felt it was one of the best endings I've written in a while.<p>

So, it took a year to complete, but I thank each and every one of you for sticking with me for this long. I sincerely hope you enjoyed your time reading the story, and I am honestly sad to say that it is over. It's the longest internet based project I've worked on ever, and quite possibly one of the stories I will always hold dear to myself, and hopefully you will too!

Until we meet again my friends~


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